


Undertow

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluri, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:11:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuri has problems, some more mundane than others, but he was making do until a childhood friend he’d never quite forgotten shows up out of the blue and turns out to be way sharper than he used to be, and something of a busybody to boot. Urban fantasy-ish AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> This didn’t even start out as a plot bunny. It was just a mental tumbleweed that lodged in my brain. 9_9  
> The urban fantasy part does take a few chapters to kick in.
> 
> Also, I totes borrowed Adrian from my friend’s epic fic, Legacy.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

In his dream, the water was warm and a tranquil, crystalline blue. Light filtered down from the full moon that floated impossibly huge on the surface. Slowly, he drifted down, down, down into the depths of the ocean where the light wouldn’t reach him. His lungs burned with the need for air until finally he couldn’t hold back any longer and opened his mouth to gasp. A cloud of bubbles obscured his vision as the water flowed gently into him, filling him up until he could barely tell where the sea ended and his body began. As he faded into darkness, a hand appeared through the curtain of bubbles, reaching out for him. He was pulled through and caught a glimpse of dark hair and eyes like storm clouds before he woke with a start, sucking in greedy breaths of air as his heart pounded and the pilot announced that they had begun their final descent.

“Oh, Flynn, I was just about to wake you. We’re almost there. Are you all right?”

Flynn smiled at her. He’d been friends with Estelle for years and had never met a kinder person. She was a little bit sheltered, a little naïve, but if you needed help, Estelle was the first one there to offer a hand. He’d invited Estelle on this trip for moral support and because he had vague memories of the town they were headed to being what his seven-year-old self hadn’t quite recognized as picturesque.

“I’m fine. What about you? Were you able to get any sleep?”

“You shouldn’t be worrying about me. You’re sure you’re okay?”

Estelle was staring at him with more concern than he felt was strictly necessary. She’d almost been more upset for him than he had been upon learning that his grandmother had passed away. He had been sad to hear it of course, but in a distant, almost dutiful sort of way. There hadn’t been many chances for him to spend time with Grandma Moira while his dad was alive, and his mother had never been close with her in-laws. With his grandmother’s passing, her estate went to her only living relative, which was how Flynn found himself flying south to a small beach town he’d only visited once in his life. 

When Flynn was seven, his parents had brought him down to spend the summer with Grandma Moira. It was the last summer he’d had with his father. Two months after they’d returned from the vacation, his father’s partner on the force had arrived at the door to give them The News, and Flynn’s world had broken apart.

When he was being honest with himself, Flynn was more worried that the trip to see the property and meet with the lawyer would be more emotionally taxing due to memories of his father resurfacing than the vague attachment he felt to his deceased grandmother. That was the reason he hadn’t wanted to make the trip alone and, out of all his friends, Estelle was the only one he felt comfortable enough with to bring along.

The plane touched down safely and Flynn and Estelle collected their luggage. Flynn rented a car and they packed their things into the trunk and left the city behind. Estelle acted as navigator on the way to the little town of Driftwood Cove.

Nothing looked familiar as Flynn drove. He had only half expected to be able to pick out a landmark here or there, but the increasingly empty highway and pale vegetation were nearly indistinguishable from the roads back home, differentiated mainly by the heat of the sun that seeped through the windows, sending sweat trickling down his back in defiance of the air conditioning,

As they got closer to the coast, traffic slowly began picking up again and palm trees started cropping up at irregular intervals. Flynn began noticing more billboards than he’d expected and thought maybe some of the on ramps and exits were new, but none of it really rang a bell. Finally, Estelle guided him to their exit, and he pulled off into a bustling city that stretched along the beach and definitely didn’t look like the sleepy town he remembered from that one summer, years ago.

“Are you sure this is right? I remember this town being a lot smaller.”

“Flynn, it’s been, like, fourteen years, right? It isn’t surprising that this place has grown.”

They followed Main Street. On the seaward side, they could catch occasional glimpses of the ocean between buildings. The rest of the city sprawled away inland. Shops, restaurants, hotels, and all manner of tourist traps lined the road. People strolled down the street, half of them barefoot and wearing swimsuits, dripping from a recent dip in the ocean. Flynn recognized a diner, an old mom-and-pop store, and the barbershop with its antique spinning pole. Everything else was new.

Grandma Moira’s house was on the outskirts of town. Perched on a small u-shaped cliff, it was hemmed in on two sides by tiny forests of mimosa trees, azaleas and hibiscus. To the rear was the cliff and a path leading down to its own private cove. It had become prime real estate as the city grew, but she’d never given in to pressure to sell. Aside from taking care of the belongings his grandmother had left behind, Flynn had traveled down to find a buyer for her property.

The house was as he remembered. A slate blue, single story bungalow with a wrap-around whitewashed porch. It had bright purple shutters. He remembered those, specifically. As a kid, he’d thought they were really weird.

Inside, the house smelled like sweet grass, salt air, and cedar. The furniture and floors were all old wood, heavy and dark and beginning to accumulate a thin coating of dust. White and pale blue cushions and throws matched the paint on the walls and contributed to the airy feeling of the layout. The curtains were white and sheer and absolutely useless for hide and seek.

Flynn remembered the face from his dream again. He’d made a friend for that summer, a boy about his age. He hadn’t thought about him in years, couldn’t even remember his name. Suddenly, he felt ashamed. That boy had saved his life, and he’d gone and forgotten his name.

At seven, Flynn had never learned to swim, never been to a pool or a lake or the beach until the summer he spent at his grandmother’s house. He’d snuck out the first night and gone down to the shore. It had been amazing at night. The sea glittered and rushed and roared, and he’d jumped in and out of the water, shrieking in delight. It had been great fun…right up until he went in a little too far and got caught in the undertow. Suddenly, he had found himself being pulled out to sea, choking on the cold, murky water.

He would have drowned if that boy hadn’t happened across him and towed him back to shore. He remembered coming to and coughing up seawater as a strange kid sat next to him on the sand, smirking. The boy had made fun of him for his foolishness, enough so that Flynn actually started a fight. They rolled around on the beach, fists flying, until Flynn managed to pin him to the sand. The boy had stared up at him with eyes like storm clouds and demanded that Flynn teach him how to fight. In exchange, he offered to teach Flynn how to swim.

For two and a half months, they’d been inseparable. The boy had shown Flynn all his favorite spots: hidden groves and hard-to-reach coves that no one else ever came to. He ate supper with Flynn’s family more often than not but, when Flynn asked to visit his home, he’d laughed.

“This whole place is my home,” he’d said. “I live wherever I want.”

It had been the first time Flynn had encountered homelessness, though he didn’t recognize it as such at the time. To him, the boy was to be admired. He was free to go wherever he wanted and do anything he felt like doing. Sometimes though, when Flynn went back to his family and left the boy alone on the beach, he wondered if it was sad to be alone all the time. He asked several times about the boy’s parents, but somehow or another, the subject always got changed when that topic came up. 

By the time Flynn had to return home at the end of the summer, he had learned how to swim like a fish, how to catch crabs and dig for clams, how to tell when a storm was coming and when the clouds would pass on by. He didn’t learn much about the boy who had been his friend that summer, though, and with the upheaval of his life a couple months afterward, he had forgotten all about him until that dream he’d had on the plane. Odd that he’d dream of a playmate whose name he couldn’t remember rather than his father.

It only took half an hour to get settled in. Flynn opened the windows, allowing the sea breeze to blow through the house. They changed into swimsuits and Flynn donned a short-sleeved hoodie. The meeting with the attorney wouldn’t be until Monday afternoon. The weekend was theirs, and they headed straight for the beach.

A path had been carved from the house down to the shore and Estelle hurried down it eagerly. Flynn watched her, smiling, and remembered walking the path day after day. The sand was still incredibly soft. The water was the same murky brown, green, gray, shifting color with depth and light and the unending waves. The foam sparkled. He could taste the salt on the air.

Estelle dashed into the surf, exclaiming at the water’s temperature even as she waded deeper. Flynn smiled and followed her in, watching the water swirl around his ankles and feeling the sand being dragged out from underneath his feet by the tide. He’d missed the ocean after he’d left. He’d even chosen a college only a couple hours away from the coast, though the beach up north had been rocky and the waves considerably rougher. It hadn’t stopped him from making the drive nearly every other weekend, or from learning to surf.

He was up to his knees in the water when a voice called out from the cliff.

“Careful not to get dragged out by the undertow.”

Looking up, he saw a young man sitting on the edge of the cliff, watching them. He wore swim trunks and a tank top, and his dark hair hung nearly to his waist.

“This is private property,” Flynn called out cautiously.

“What kind of greeting is that? Don’t tell me you forgot me. That is you, isn’t it, Flynn?”

The stranger got up and ambled down the path as Flynn gaped incredulously. It couldn’t be. There was no way he’d have remembered. As the dark-haired man reached the shore, Flynn got a good look at his face, older but still recognizable. His cocky grin hadn’t changed at all.

“ _Yuri_?”

“You do remember. Had me worried for a minute.” He slugged Flynn amiably on the shoulder. “Still remember how to swim?”

Flynn stared. Yuri—how had he forgotten?—had grown up. Of course he’d grown up, but he’d grown up…well… _hot_. He was just as tall as Flynn, lean and fit, and he carried himself with an easy confidence that shone in his eyes. His features were just delicate enough to be androgynous rather than crossing the line into feminine. His grin morphed into a smirk.

“Close your mouth before a bug flies in.”

Automatically, Flynn’s jaw snapped shut. “I…. You…. Sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair and started over. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain. You gonna introduce me to your girlfriend?”

Stunned by the man who stood before him in place of the boy from his memories, Flynn hadn’t noticed Estelle move to stand beside him. She stepped forward hurriedly at that, offering a hand for Yuri to shake.

“Pleased to meet you. My name’s Estelle. I should tell you though, Flynn and I aren’t going out. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, I kinda guessed.” Yuri’s eyes glittered wickedly for a moment before his amusement faded, expression turning somber. “I heard about your grandma. Sorry.”

“Thanks. It’s okay, though. I only ever spent time with her that one summer.”

“Seems to me that’s plenty of time to make a connection with someone.”

Blushing, Flynn looked away. Yuri’s eyes had been more intense than he was comfortable with.

“So, Yuri, how did you and Flynn meet?”

“He didn’t tell you? We used to go skinny dipping together.”

“Yuri!”

Estelle giggled, Yuri snickered, and Flynn eventually gave in and smiled. 

“Tell it right, jerk,” he said. “Yuri saved my life. I was stupid and went playing in the water at night—even though I couldn’t swim—and he pulled me out when the undertow got me.”

Horrified, Estelle stared at him open-mouthed. “You went into the ocean without knowing how to swim? Flynn…!”

Her reaction set Yuri to laughing again. “Isn’t he the worst? He even beat the crap out of me afterwards for lecturing him about it.”

“Flynn! Did you apologize to him?”

“It was years ago.” Even as he protested, Flynn knew it was useless.

“You know, Estelle, you’re right. He never did apologize.” Yuri looked at Flynn expectantly, though his eyes crinkled with the effort of forcing back a smile.

“Flynn!”

“Okay, I’m sorry!”

“I don’t know. That didn’t sound very sincere.” His voice was thick with repressed laughter. Estelle didn’t seem to notice as she frowned at Flynn, waiting for him to apologize properly.

“ _Really_?”

Finally, Yuri’s laughter got the better of him and Flynn was spared any further harassment when Estelle realized that Yuri had only been giving him a hard time.

“You’re just like you were back then,” Yuri said, grinning. “Listen, I’ve got to get going, but if you two will be in town for a while, come down to the public beach. I work as a lifeguard most days.”

“Sure.” As he turned to go, Flynn reached out, though he hesitated at the last second and didn’t touch his shoulder. “Yuri…it’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah. You too.” He waved and took off back up the cliff. 

Flynn watched until he disappeared from sight. Behind him, Estelle giggled.

“I think somebody has a crush.”

“I do not have a crush on Yuri. I hadn’t even thought of him in years.”

“Well, I _was_ talking about him, but if you’re going to get defensive about it….”

For a moment, Flynn stared at her, at a loss for words. “…I think you’ve been reading too many romance novels.”

“Oh, come on! You can’t tell me you didn’t notice the way he looked at you. He even remembered you after all this time.” She clasped her hands together over her chest. “That’s so—”

“Stop right there, please. I didn’t come down here to start a relationship—not that I even believe he’s interested,” he added when Estelle started to say something. “We’re here so I can sell the house. After that, we’re going home.”

She sighed, but didn’t argue. They spent the next hour wading and walking back and forth along the little cove, searching for shells. Somehow, Flynn found himself talking about Yuri, rediscovering his memories as he told Estelle story after story from that summer. He skirted uncomfortably around Yuri’s homelessness and absent family, but he had so many other little adventures to relate that Estelle didn’t notice.

After a while, they headed back inside, stomachs growling, and changed to ride back into town for lunch. Flynn drove them to the diner he remembered and, feeling pleasantly nostalgic, ordered a chocolate milk and grilled cheese, grinning when Estelle poked fun at him for the childish meal. They spent a few hours exploring the shops that had sprung up all along Main Street and went grocery shopping afterward. Since they would be staying for a few days, Flynn wanted to be able to cook at the house rather than eat out for every meal.

The sun was setting by the time they made it back and got everything put away, but Flynn couldn’t help looking out over the ocean every few minutes. He wished he’d brought his board. Surfing would be way better here with the soft sand waiting for him rather than the pebbles and rock chips he was used to. The waves looked amazing. He was itching to get back into the water.

“Do you want to go see him?”

“What?” Estelle’s question had taken him by surprise.

“You keep looking outside. I thought maybe you might want to go see Yuri. We could have him over for dinner.”

“I…. You think so? We haven’t seen each other in years. It might be kind of awkward.”

“What are you talking about? You two were fine earlier. There’s so much to catch up on.” She grabbed his arm, pulling him out the door. “Come on. Let’s go get him.”

Though the cliff that wrapped around the cove kept it pretty well cut off from the rest of the shoreline, it wasn’t a terribly long walk to get to an access path leading to the public beach. Flynn was a little surprised that he even remembered it, and supposed that maybe it was only a matter of time until he could find his way around as easily as he had when he was seven. The beach grass drooped over the path, tickling their legs as they passed, and the coarser, packed dirt soon gave way to fine, white sand.

On the beach, a few scattered groups had already started bonfires. Music was playing, sounding oddly high and tinny as it was forced out of too-small speakers to be carried away on the sea breeze. Further on down, the white tower of a lifeguard post stood out in the last fading rays of sunlight.

As they approached, Flynn and Estelle could see that Yuri was leaning against the base of the tower across from them as a tanned, blond man pressed into his personal space. They were almost to the post before they could hear the conversation.

“Sure you won’t reconsider?” the stranger was saying. “I picked up some whipped cream, just for you.”

“Oh, well in _that_ case….”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Come on. I’ll buy you that grape pan you wanted.”

“Crepe pan, you cretin.”

“Even better!”

“Look, Adrien, back off for a few days, all right? Seriously.”

Rather than backing off, Adrien leaned forward, pushing Yuri against the whitewashed beam. “Don’t be like that. I know you gotta be dying for it by now.”

One moment, Flynn was starting forward to do _something_ about the situation, and the next, Yuri had slammed a fist into Adrien’s kidney, slipping out of reach as he doubled over, clutching his side.

“No means no, asshole,” Yuri muttered, turning away from him. There was the barest hesitation in his movement when he saw Flynn and Estelle staring at him, obviously close enough to have heard what was going on, but he covered up his discomfort with a smirk.

“Hey. Didn’t expect to see you two again so soon. What’s up?”

“We, ah, came to invite you to dinner.” Flynn couldn’t help glancing over Yuri’s shoulder at Adrien. He’d recovered from the hit and was glaring at the three of them.

“Sounds great. I need a dip first, though. Been a long day. If you guys want to head on back, I’ll swim around and meet you there.”

“All right.”

Yuri grinned and took off, eagerly dashing into the surf. In moments, he was out of sight among the waves.

Watching him, Estelle giggled. “He really seems to like the water.”

“Yuri swims like a fish. He’s the one who taught me.” 

He glanced up, eyeing Adrien as he retreated down the beach. Yuri had taught him how to swim, and he’d taught Yuri how to fight. Thinking about what he’d just seen, about Yuri’s apparent homelessness years ago, Flynn wondered if he’d missed important clues about what sort of life his friend led back when he was younger. If he’d noticed and spoken up, could things have been different? There was no use speculating on it at that point, and he and Estelle turned their steps back toward the beach house.

Yuri wasn’t at the house when they arrived, so Flynn left Estelle in the kitchen pulling out what they’d need in order to prepare supper, and headed out to the cove. He spotted Yuri easily enough, treading water out where the ocean started to get just deep enough to really swim.

“Come on in, the water’s fine!”

“Come on out, I’m going to start dinner,” Flynn shouted back, smiling.

“You cook? This I’ve gotta see!” Yuri dove under, surfacing with an exaggerated splash once he was close enough to walk, and sloshed his way onto shore. The tank top he’d been wearing clung to him, translucent, and somehow Flynn found it more alluring than the thought of seeing him shirtless. He suddenly needed to look anywhere but at Yuri. 

“You’ll get chilled dressed like that. I’ll loan you a change of clothes.”

“Great. Hey…race you back.” With no more warning than the flash of a grin, Yuri shot away across the sand.

“No fair!” Laughing, Flynn chased after him, barely a step behind the whole way up.

“Cheater.”

“The ends justify the means.”

“If you hadn’t gotten to the path first, I would’ve won.”

“That’s ‘cause you can’t pass anyone on that narrow thing. You’d knock ‘em off.”

“The ends justify the means.”

Flynn was more relieved than he’d expected by the easy way they could banter back and forth, even after so long apart. He pulled out a t-shirt and some khaki shorts for Yuri to swap with his soaked top and swim trunks and left him in the bedroom to change. Heading for the kitchen to start cooking, he was suddenly and acutely aware that Yuri was going to be wandering around _commando_ in his shorts. The thought stubbornly refused to fade to the back of his mind, particularly as Yuri sauntered into the kitchen, and Flynn had to resist the urge to beat his head against the counter. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so discomfited over such a stupid little thing.

When it became apparent that Yuri was a backseat chef and perfectly willing to curb Flynn’s unique approach to seasoning food, Estelle left the boys to it and went to relax in her room with a book until supper was ready. Yuri kept Flynn talking about what he’d been doing over the years until Flynn realized that, aside from mentioning his job earlier that day, Yuri hadn’t said anything at all about himself.

“How have things been for you?”

“Not bad. I’m doing the lifeguard thing. It pays decent, but it’s not exactly exciting. Most days it keeps me out of the water more often than not.”

“Still living wherever you want?” He asked as a joke, thinking surely, _surely_ , with a steady job Yuri would have gotten himself an apartment at least, but there was that slight hesitation in him again, a momentary dimming of his grin and Flynn’s heart sank.

“I’ve got a pretty decent place,” he said. “No TV, but I make do.”

“You should come stay here,” Flynn heard himself saying. “I’ll be in town for a few days, at least….”

For a second, Yuri just stared at him before he smiled wider, showing teeth. “Why would I need to stay with you, Flynn? I just told you I’ve got my own place.”

There wasn’t anything he could think of to say to that. It had been stupid to offer in the first place. If Yuri really was still homeless, a few days of pity housing weren’t going to really do him a lot of good in the long run. They finished making dinner quietly, speaking only to ask ‘could you pass that?’ or ‘where can I find this?’

As the delicious smell of pan-seared tuna, buttered potatoes, and sautéed vegetables filled the house, Yuri’s good mood returned with Estelle and they set the table together, commiserating about Flynn’s ideas on how to spice food. The atmosphere was light and friendly as they ate, but Flynn thought he could sense the tension from earlier roiling under the surface, an emotional undertow that would drag down the friendship he was just rekindling. 

It bothered him as he picked at his food. Yes, he’d forgotten about Yuri years ago, but the death of his father had messed him up pretty bad for a few years. Maybe that was still no excuse for forgetting a friend that had once saved his life, but he’d regretted it once he remembered, and he wanted to make amends. He just wasn’t sure how.

“Flynn, quit poking that thing. If you’d wanted the potatoes mashed, you should have said so earlier.”

He looked up to see Yuri smirking at him. Was there an edge to the expression, or was he just imagining it? He speared the chunk of potato one last time and ate it.

Since the boys had cooked, Estelle volunteered to do the dishes. They helped her clear the table, then went to sit in the living room. Yuri talked about how the town had changed, for better and for worse, and listed off what remained of his childhood hideaways. It was a short list, and Flynn smiled ruefully as he finished.

“Not much left, is there? I’d been looking forward to revisiting a few of those places.”

“’A few’ is all you’re going to get. The developers took the rest.” He sighed. “I guess it’s not all bad. We didn’t used to need a lifeguard before, and there’s a great little bakery off Main. They do amazing crepes.”

“Estelle would love that. You’ll have to show us before we leave.”

“How long did you say you were staying?”

“Once I decide on a buyer for the property, we’ve got to agree on a price, and then I’ll need to…well, empty out the house. The furniture will stay, I guess, but the rest of it…. Anyway, we’ll be here for however long that all takes. A few days, maybe a week. I’m meeting with the attorney the day after tomorrow to look over the list of people interested. Grandma refused to sell for so long, so I want to at least make sure whoever buys this place won’t be building something she wouldn’t approve of.”

“Hmm. Playing the dutiful grandson? How admirable.”

“Well, do you know what she would have wanted me to do?”

“Your grandma was a sharp woman, Flynn, but we didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye. I’m probably the last person she’d want you talking to about this.”

“What’s that supposed to—” He never got to finish the question. Estelle burst into the room, smiling delightedly.

“Guys! You have to come see this!” Grabbing each of them by the hand, she pulled them to the front door and out into the night.

It was still warm out, despite the darkness and constant breeze, but it was a comfortable warmth. Immediately, Flynn saw what had Estelle so excited. Tiny blue lights danced in and out of the overgrown bushes that loomed on the edge of the small yard. They looked like faeries.

“Fireflies, Flynn! Blue ones! I’ve only ever seen the green ones. Aren’t they pretty?”

“Very pretty,” he agreed. Amused by her excitement, he glanced at Yuri and stared.

The moonlight made Yuri’s eyes luminous and they glittered with the reflected glow of fireflies that lit up close by. His skin was pale as alabaster, and the wind whipped his hair around his face. Flynn bit back the urge to call him beautiful and reminded himself to breathe.

“You know, some people around here say that those are the souls of sailors that died at sea.” Yuri grinned like a camp counselor telling ghost stories to children, and Estelle leaned forward, eagerly.

“Really? I love folk tales and local legends. If you don’t mind, can you tell me some of the stories from around here?”

“Sure. Flynn, your grandma ever tell you about the mermaids?”

“No.”

“What, really?” Oddly enough, he did seem genuinely surprised.

“I don’t think she believed in that sort of thing. Grandma Moira was kind of no-nonsense.”

“It isn’t nonsense. I can’t believe she didn’t warn you. Their favorite food is the flesh of a drowning man, after all.” He flexed his fingers like claws, grinning, and his teeth shone white in the moonlight.

“I only almost drowned the one time, and after that I learned to swim from the best. I don’t think I needed to be warned about fictional creatures of the deep.”

“Flynn, stop arguing so he’ll tell us about the mermaids!”

Raising his hands in surrender, Flynn kept quiet and listened as Yuri started spinning tales about fanged monstrosities that had more in common with a black widow than a Disney princess. The mermaids Yuri described lured sailors overboard with their beautiful voices in order to pull them under the waves to try to mate with them, drowning the men, then tearing apart the corpses to devour. Yuri didn’t skimp on the gruesome details, and the knowing tone he used gave Flynn the shivers.

“You’re an incredible storyteller,” Estelle said once he’d finished. “Do you know any more?”

“Lots, but they’ll have to wait for another time. I ought to be heading back.”

“Oh. Can I come see you Monday afternoon, then? I’ll be at loose ends for a few hours.”

“Sure. You know where to find me.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Flynn offered.

“I’m a big boy now. I can take care of myself.”

“Part way, then.” He thought for a second that he would be refused again, but Yuri shrugged and turned back toward town.

They didn’t talk as they picked their way along the shadowy path. Yuri was barefoot, but he still moved swiftly and surely and made very little noise as he went. Flynn was beginning to wonder if he’d upset him again somehow, when Yuri stopped suddenly. They’d reached the place where the path forked, one way leading down to the beach, the other leading to the road into town.

“Thanks for dinner. I’ll get your stuff washed and back to you. See you around.” He smiled and began walking toward town.

“Goodnight,” Flynn called. 

He hesitated a moment before backtracking along the path until he came to a bend where he could just barely see the fork from behind a palm tree. After a moment, his hunch paid off as Yuri turned around and headed down towards the beach. As soon as he was out of sight, Flynn raced back to the beach house, tearing around to the back and flying down to the cove faster even than when he had raced Yuri. He sped across the sand to the cliff side and crouched in the darkness, waiting and watching the waves. Moments later, he saw Yuri go swimming past, and he bit his lip, having a good idea of where he was headed.

The entirety of the city stretched out to the other side of the beach house. Nothing had been built up in the direction Yuri was heading. The only thing to that side of the cove was a small cave in the rock, only accessible by the ocean. It had to be Yuri’s “place.” Forget not having a TV, there wouldn’t even be electricity or running water.

Grimacing, Flynn stood and started back up to the house. It wasn’t his problem. Yuri didn’t want to talk about it, he was obviously getting by well enough, and Flynn had no business butting in. It wasn’t his problem…but he couldn’t help feeling, as he thought about it that night, that maybe it ought to be.


	2. Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flynn is a surfer because that’s what popped into my head when I saw his beach outfit from the game. You know, the wildly anachronistic wetsuit one. =D
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Flynn and Estelle slept in on Sunday morning, enjoyed a late breakfast of eggs and toast, and spent the day going through all the things left behind in the house.

Flynn remembered Grandma Moira as being strict and fastidious and, even after her passing, the house still reflected that. Everything was spotless. There was not a single chipped plate or cup to be found. The linen closet was perfectly organized, the sheets and towels within folded with military precision. Even when they came across a surface in need of dusting, it was always a fine layer, clearly a very recent accumulation. 

There was little of value. She’d kept a few knick-knacks, mostly glass bottles or large shells; a small collection of books, including three Bibles; a large and varied assortment of pots, pans, and kitchen utensils; and a few pieces of silver jewelry. Most of it could be donated, though Flynn offered Estelle a set of bracelets and packed up the rest of the jewelry to take home.

They went ahead and boxed up anything that they wouldn’t be using during their stay, though Flynn had decided not to take anything out of the house until everything was finalized. As they went through, emptying drawers and cleaning off tabletops and shelves, they noticed more and more little things that didn’t quite fit in with Flynn’s memory of his grandmother.

Old iron nails had been partially driven into the wood above the doors, their heads sticking up a good inch or two. More nails stood crookedly in the corners of the windowsills, camouflaged by the curtains and a coat of paint, but obvious once Flynn knew to look for them. Linen handkerchiefs and a bottle marked ‘bay oil’ were stored in the medicine cabinet. Bundles of twigs tied with red thread had been tucked into the back of drawers and in corners. An old flatiron had been left under Grandma Moira’s bed, and a beach stone with a hole worn through it sat on the nightstand. Estelle found similar stones near the front and back doors. They gathered the strange odds and ends into a pile on the kitchen counter to be considered later.

The late breakfast left them working through lunch, so by the time the sun was setting that evening both of them had worked up a healthy appetite. Estelle collapsed onto one of the stools that circled the central counter in the kitchen and pillowed her head in her arms on the countertop.

“I’m so hungry, but I don’t wanna move anymore.”

“Well, I don’t feel up to cooking, so you’ll have to move if you want to go get dinner with me.”

“…I need a shower first. I feel sticky.”

“Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

As Estelle went to wash up and change, Flynn settled onto the couch. He was just dozing off when someone knocked at the door. Groaning, he got up to answer it, unsurprised to find Yuri standing on the porch.

“Hey. You look done in.” He came in when Flynn stepped aside for him and held up a bag. “Brought your clothes back.”

“Thank you.” The bag smelled like detergent, and Flynn guessed Yuri must have stopped in at a laundromat.

“You guys had dinner yet? Thought I’d offer to cook for you as thanks for last night.”

Flynn’s stomach growled and he smiled crookedly. “That sounds wonderful. We’ve been working all day and weren’t really feeling up to it.”

“Lucky for you, I happen to be an excellent cook. Just show me what you’ve got to work w—” He stopped suddenly as he entered the kitchen, staring at the pile of miscellany on the counter. “What’s all that?”

“Just some stuff Estelle and I found while cleaning. We weren’t sure what half of it was.”

“Better put it back.”

“It’s junk.”

Yuri rounded on him, frowning. “You said yourself that your grandmother was a no-nonsense lady. She must have had that stuff where it was for a reason. Put it back.”

“What does it matter? We’re only going to be here for a little while, and whoever buys the house certainly isn’t going to leave all that mess.”

Biting his lip, Yuri ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He didn’t look happy when Flynn threw away the stones, twigs, and nails, but he didn’t say anything else about it. Instead, he began going through the fridge and cabinets, selecting what he needed for the meal as Flynn settled into a seat to watch him.

Yuri’s movements were quick and graceful. He had a long reach, and rocked from foot to foot, grabbing things as he needed them and setting his hair swaying like a curtain over his back. It felt nice, Flynn realized, just being with him like this, even without words. There was something comfortable about it that felt like his friendship with Estelle. Unlike with Estelle, however, he felt an underlying attraction to Yuri. He did think Estelle was pretty, but seeing her face didn’t make his stomach do flip-flops. her voice didn’t make his heart beat faster, the sway of her hips didn’t inspire the need for a cold shower. He dropped his head onto the countertop with an audible ‘thunk!’ as he realized that yes, he had it bad for a guy he barely knew.

“Everything all right back there?” Yuri was looking back over his shoulder at him.

“Fine.”

“Good. Think you can handle making the rice?”

“It’s microwave rice. I’m pretty sure I can manage. I _can_ cook, thank you.”

“Flynn, I saw what you tried to do to the fish last night.” He actually shuddered. “Whoever told you that you can cook was lying to you.”

“You’ve never lied to me, have you?” It was more a sudden realization than a question, and Flynn wasn’t sure what made him say it. Maybe it was because of all the times Yuri had dodged a question when a lie would have been easier. Maybe it was because he knew he wouldn’t.

“Nope.”

“Tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” His tone was casual. He went on rapidly chopping vegetables, but his shoulders looked suddenly tense.

“What’s your favorite food? What do you like to do for fun? What kind of dreams do you have? I don’t know. Anything.”

“Careful. It almost sounds like you’re _interested_ in me.”

“Are you dating that guy I saw you with on the beach yesterday?”

The knife in Yuri’s hand made one last chop and stilled on the cutting board. “It’s complicated.” His voice had lost its teasing edge.

“Explain it to me.”

“Let this one go, Flynn. You’re only in town for a week or so, right? Not long enough for it to matter. Better to keep some distance.”

It was Flynn’s own reasoning thrown right back at him like a punch to the gut. He slumped and popped the rice into the microwave, watching it spin around. Yuri was right. It wasn’t like he could stay. He still had a year of college left. After that, he was joining the police force. Well, there were police everywhere. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get a job in Driftwood Cove. At the beach. With Yuri. 

The microwave dinged.

“Find a bowl for that, would you? I’ll have the stir fry done in just a couple minutes.”

He already had the vegetables in the wok. Flynn watched as he tossed them, caught them, creating a wave in greens, red, and orange. It smelled enticingly of peppers, garlic, and soy sauce. Yuri had found a bag of sesame seeds in the pantry, and he sprinkled them over the mix as it went airborne again. He was obviously making a show of it, and Flynn clapped dutifully. 

It was over in the next minute. Satisfied that the vegetables were cooked to perfection, Yuri turned them out into a large bowl and carried it into the dining room along with the rice. Belatedly, Flynn realized he should have set the table, and pulled out plates and forks, hurriedly arranging the place settings.

“I guess we could have eaten in the kitchen, but it’s kind of automatic to bring it in here, you know? I don’t know why your grandmother even kept seats around that counter in there.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He looked around, realizing he could no longer hear the sound of the water running in the shower. “We should wait a minute. Estelle will be out soon.”

“I’m coming,” she called from her room. They heard footsteps in the short hall, and Estelle appeared a moment later wearing a pale yellow sundress. 

“That smells amazing,” she enthused, pulling up a chair.

“Just something I tossed together from your supplies. Dig in.”

The food was gone in no time, disappearing into hungry stomachs as conversation took a backseat to the meal. A warm and familiar feeling settled over Flynn as he ate. The clink of cutlery on china, soft ‘mmm’s, the exchange of smiles without need for words for a while: this was what family felt like. It had been a long time since he’d felt so at home.

“You look really happy,” Estelle said to him later that evening after Yuri had left. They stood side-by-side at the sink, washing the dishes.

“I am. I’m really glad I came.”

“…You’re meeting the attorney tomorrow.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking about that.”

“What about it?”

“Just turning over some ideas in my head, nothing definite.”

“I wish I’d taken a picture earlier. I’ve never seen you look the way you did at dinner.” She turned to look at him, waiting until he set down the plate he was washing to giver her his full attention before she spoke again. “Remember that feeling when you decide what to do with the house, okay?”

It was only that afternoon that the two of them had been packing everything up to haul it away. It almost spooked him that she was talking as if he might keep the house. _Almost_ …but things had just felt _right_ earlier, like he’d fit, and it was strong enough that he couldn’t really be surprised that she’d felt it, too.

He wanted to run out after Yuri, haul him out of wherever he stayed at night to go swimming under the stars, and talk to him about moving into the beautiful old house overlooking the cove. The suddenness of the desire, the way it had nothing to do with what he’d planned for his life scared him, but that was nothing compared to the growing excitement at the idea of picking up and moving here for good. Everything was beautiful and vibrant: the house, the ocean, the sunshine, Yuri—all of it. It felt like a piece he’d been missing.

When Estelle got a call from Rita, Flynn waved her off and finished the dishes himself. The ocean called to him, and he changed into a pair of swim trunks and made his way eagerly down to the shore. The path was almost invisible at night. He’d have to get some lights installed.

Yuri was waiting for him in the water. “Come to tell me off for trespassing?” The teasing smile he wore was carried through the darkness on his voice.

“I thought you went home.” He was so glad he hadn’t. He waded out until the water was almost up to his chest. Yuri was further out still. He’d have been invisible if it weren’t for the full moon.

“I felt like a dip. So, you never answered my question the other night. You still remember how to swim?”

Rather than saying anything, Flynn dove under, reveling in the feel of the water all around him. When he surfaced, he’d shortened the distance between them to only a few feet.

“I manage. I took up surfing at college.”

Yuri grinned. “Yeah? They rent out boards at this little shop just off the beach. You should show me your skills tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Flynn watched as Yuri let his body rise to the surface to bob atop the waves. He still wore the shirt he’d come to dinner in.

“I think…. I’ve been thinking about staying here a little longer.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’d forgotten how amazing this place is. Honestly, I think there are some parts of it I can appreciate even more now.”

Yuri was drifting away, so Flynn reached out and grabbed his wrist to pull him back, closer than before. Obligingly, Yuri let himself sink back into the ocean until they were face-to-face, treading water.

“Flynn….” He knew what was coming. His voice held a note of warning, but he made no move to slip away as Flynn leaned in and brought their lips together.

That first kiss was tentative, almost questioning, but then Yuri tilted his head, flicked his tongue across Flynn’s lips, and all of a sudden, they were kissing in earnest, awkwardly trying to stay afloat and stay connected and breathe all at once. Yuri had Flynn’s lower lip between his teeth as a wave nearly swamped them, and he bit down, adding the coppery taste of blood to the already salty kiss. He shoved Flynn away, gasping.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Not in the water,” Flynn agreed. His lip stung, but it wasn’t important, not nearly as important as thoughts of Yuri and kissing and…. Flynn swallowed and pulled Yuri back to him.

“No, I mean—”

“The beach is no good. Estelle might walk out on us.” He ducked his head to kiss beneath the line of Yuri’s jaw and ignored the hands batting at him until he realized Yuri wasn’t just treading water, he was trying to push Flynn away.

“Pretty sure she knows you’re gay. You aren’t exactly subtle.”

“It’s not like I broadcast it.” 

“Let’s just set that aside for now.”

“You started it.” 

“And I’m ending it. Shut up for a minute, will you? Damn. Listen, when I said we shouldn’t be doing this, I meant we _really_ shouldn’t be doing this. At all.”

Flynn’s expression darkened. “Because of that Adrien guy?”

“Hell, no.” He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“That’s what you said last time. I want a real answer.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Flynn. Ask me no questions…”

“…you’ll tell me no lies. Nice. That’s very convenient for you, but what if I want to understand you, get to know you better?”

“You know me well enough already. Go home, Flynn. Get your shit taken care of, and go back home.” He started to swim off, but Flynn caught him with a question.

“What if I want to make this my home?”

“What?”

“It already feels more like home here than anywhere I’ve lived since I left.”

“Must be nice, being able to pick a home based on the warm fuzzies. Get over your nostalgia trip. The rest of us are living in the real world.”

“Where’s your home?”

“I told you, I’ve got a—”

“Race you to that big old cave we used to play in. The one just around the cliff.” There was nothing playful in Flynn’s voice. He didn’t care anymore about whether it was his business or not. He needed to know.

“No.” Ignoring Yuri, Flynn set off through the water. “Knock it off! Stay away from that cave, Flynn!”

He could hear Yuri catching up and swam faster, speeding through the water. Yuri was quicker still—he always had been—but Flynn refused to be held back. He slipped out of Yuri’s grasp again and again, progress slowed, but not halted. Eventually, Yuri gave up and hung back, leaving Flynn to enter the cave alone.

At high tide, the water reached a few feet in. Just at the moment, though, there was a short climb between the low-hanging mouth of the cave and the waves that crashed against the cliff. Flynn scaled the vertical rock cautiously. It had been years since Yuri had showed him the safe holds, but the two of them had been in and out of this particular hiding place so often that kinetic memory took over, and he was able to find his way up and in.

He had to crawl forward several feet before the cave opened up suddenly all around, just tall enough for him to stand. It was pitch dark inside. He’d forgotten about that, and shuffled forward blindly. 

Something had been left in his path, and he heard a metallic clatter as he kicked it. Kneeling, he examined the object, feeling metal and glass and a knob, and realized he held a storm lantern. He twisted the knob, feeling the rasp of the device inside that would ignite the small flame, and held up the light to have a look around.

Flynn wasn’t sure what he had expected, but what he saw wasn’t it. There was a bed in the corner; a rumpled mass of mismatched blankets piled high enough to make a reasonably soft nest on the rock. Candles, held in place by years of accumulated wax drippings, waited to be lit all around the edges of the cavern. Little statues carved from driftwood sat in niches in the stone. Three bookshelves made of driftwood, carefully sanded and fitted, stood off to one side of the cavern. They wouldn’t have fit in through the mouth of the cave. Had Yuri carried in driftwood piece by piece to build them? He brought the lantern closer to the shelves, examining their contents. They held a handful of books, mostly for cooking; some chipped dishes; a hand-cranked radio; a mesh bag containing soap, shampoo, a comb, and toothpaste and –brush in a Ziploc; a toolbox; a camp stove and battered collection of pans; various sizes of Ziploc bags; and bowls of fruit, bread, snacks, and bottled drinks. One whole set of shelves was home to Yuri’s laundry, folded surprisingly neatly. 

“Pretty cozy, wouldn’t you say?” Yuri had made his way in without a sound. He stalked past Flynn and threw himself down on the bed. “I’ve even got myself a little stove. All the comforts of home.”

“Yuri….”

“So, what now, Flynn? Now that you’ve seen it, what’s going to change? You think you’re actually going to do something about it now that you can’t pretend you don’t understand? I don’t want your charity.”

Flynn sighed and sat down next to him. “I know you’re getting along okay, Yuri. You wouldn’t still be here if things were that bad. I just…I wanted you to let me in. I _like_ you.”

“Like I couldn’t have figured that out even without our little round of tonsil hockey.”

“I’m being serious.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know, but I want to.” He held Yuri’s gaze until Yuri sighed and flopped down onto the bed, rolling to face the wall.

“Ask your questions. I’m not promising to answer, though.”

“I’m fine with whatever you’re willing to tell me.”

“Liar.” 

Flynn pretended he hadn’t heard that. He wasn’t going to apologize for coming to the cave.

“How did you learn to cook? You aren’t really set up for it here.”

“Books. And I know some people that let me use their kitchens when I’m over.”

“So you have friends to stay with when the weather gets bad or if you get sick.”

“I don’t get sick, and I’ve never stayed the night at a friend’s place.”

“Never? I should tell Estelle. She’ll be sure to fix that.” He looked around again. “Did you make your bookshelves?”

“Yeah.”

“And all those little driftwood animals—did you carve those?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“You’re really good. I bet they’d sell. Have you ever thought about setting up a little shop?”

“Your questions are getting dumber.”

Flynn shrugged. “You said I could ask what I wanted. What do you do for fun?”

“I answer stupid questions.”

Grinning, Flynn looked down at him. Yuri was still facing the wall, but the tension had disappeared from his shoulders, and his tone was light, amused.

“All right, what do you do for fun when I’m not around?”

“I free dive. I carve stuff. Sometimes I hit up the thrift shop on Breaker.”

“Free diving…that’s when you dive without any oxygen tanks or gear, right? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Maybe if you’re careless, or don’t know what you’re doing. Surfing’s the same, isn’t it? I saw the scars on your arms. Came in to shore a little rough a few times?”

“It was worth it.”

“Yeah.” Yuri rolled over and smiled up at him, the same easy, confident smile he’d worn back when they were kids, and Flynn drank in the sight of him. He loved that smile. How could he have ever forgotten it?

“Yuri, how do you feel about me?”

In an instant, the smile was gone and Yuri rolled away to face the wall again.

“Pass.”

“There’s something here. You wouldn’t have kissed me otherwise, right?”

“I’m too tired for this.”

Flynn hesitated, wondering how far he could press the issue. In the end, all he asked was: “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“What? Oh, the surfing? Sure, whatever.”

“I’ll come by the beach in the morning then, before my meeting with the attorney.”

“You do that.”

Before getting up to leave, Flynn leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. Yuri didn’t say anything, just curled in on himself and waited to be left alone.


	3. Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder: Adrien is my friend’s character. I’m borrowing him with her blessing, but I’m not taking responsibility for that asshole. :/
> 
> Also, I love Judy. Like, a lot. I want her and Yuri to go adventuring together kicking ass and being awesome.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Flynn was up early the next morning, eager to see Yuri again, eager to surf, eager to talk with the lawyer and begin hashing out plans for the house and for himself. He slipped out of his pajama pants and into a pair of swim trunks, pulling on his hooded t-shirt as an afterthought. Estelle had been up late talking to Rita and opted to sleep in and meet up with him later, so Flynn went alone to the beach.

When he reached the lifeguard post, Yuri was just coming out of the water. As he got closer, Flynn could see he was smiling.

“Hey. Ready to show me what you learned while you were gone?”

“Oh, yes. Just show me where I can get a board.”

Half an hour later, Flynn was catching waves, and shouting his elation to the world. There was nothing— _nothing_ —like the feeling of being perched atop a roiling wall of water, chilled by wind and sea spray, warmed by the sun. This was life. An endless blue sky above him, and the ocean roaring below, carrying him to shore where Yuri waited, smiling, impressed with the person Flynn had managed to become, or at least with how at home he was on the water compared to that first night years ago. As a wave broke over him, he dropped down onto his stomach and paddled back until he was close enough to walk the rest of the way to shore.

“Not bad,” Yuri said, grinning. Despite the early hour, the heat had already nearly dried out his shirt and trunks.

“You should come out with me.” He reached out to take Yuri’s hand, thrilled when, rather than shaking him off, Yuri curled his fingers around Flynn’s.

“I don’t surf. I want to be in the water, not on top of it.”

“You’re missing out. It’s the most amazing feeling.”

“Pretty sure I could top it.”

“With what? What could possibly be better than that?”

There was a sharp edge to Yuri’s smirk and, though he kept a teasing note to his voice, his eyes were serious. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Actually, I think right now I’d like to surf.” He felt like he was running away, though he couldn’t say why. “Sure you won’t join me?”

“Can’t. I’m on duty in a couple minutes. Go have fun. I promise to watch you do your tricks from up there.”

Flynn rolled his eyes, exasperated and relieved as he hurried back into the water. Every time he talked to Yuri there were more secrets, more cryptic little comments, but no explanations. 

He slid his tongue over the cut on his lip from where Yuri had bitten him, remembering the kiss and the aftermath. He honestly hadn’t meant to offend Yuri’s pride by exposing the way he lived. He just wanted to know more about him. All his memories of Yuri were almost a decade and a half old. He wanted new ones. Warm ones, like the meal they’d shared last night. Exciting ones, like kissing him in the ocean. He wanted to teach Yuri to surf, explore the town with him and learn all its new secrets. He wanted to know what it would be like to wake up next to Yuri, which was crazy, but he couldn’t help feeling that way, and he didn’t really think he wanted to.

Sure, if he thought too hard about it all it seemed ridiculous, but it was exciting. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to do something so badly. Even his dream of becoming a police officer was partly due to respect for his dad and his own sense of justice and duty. The thought of moving to Driftwood Cove, to a sunny town with gorgeous beaches where he could go surfing any time he wanted simply made him happy. It had nothing to do with living up to others’ expectations or working to make the world a better place. 

He could move down after graduation and find a job. If it didn’t work out, well…he was young. He could always sell the beach house later and move again, start over someplace new.

If he moved into the beach house, though…if he lived so close to Yuri, then maybe…maybe there’d be time enough for the desires Yuri had stirred within him to develop into something more.

He surfed for hours, alternately trying to sort through his feelings, organize his thoughts for the coming meeting, and concentrate on not falling off his board. It wasn’t until he heard Estelle calling him from the beach that he realized he’d drifted away from Yuri’s post. He let the sea carry him to shore and met her at the edge of the waves.

“It’s past noon. You’d better get washed up for your meeting.”

“Thanks.” They fell into step together, heading back towards the surf shop and the house. “Did you talk to Yuri?”

“Yeah. He told me a story about selkies. I’m going to hang out with him while you’re in town.”

“Just don’t distract him too much. He is working, you know.” He smiled when Estelle stuck her tongue out at him, then left her on the beach to get ready for his appointment.

Back at the beach house, Flynn pulled out a white button down shirt and a pair of nice jeans. He showered quickly and got dressed and was on his way inside of twenty minutes. The office was just off Main Street on the near side of town, so he opted to walk and let the sunshine and ocean breeze dry his hair. He found his way with no problems and was shown in immediately, despite being early for his appointment.

The attorney was a short, balding man who had apparently found his grandmother to be quite intimidating. He briefly outlined the portion of her will that pertained to Flynn. Aside from leaving him the house and everything in it, Grandma Moira had set aside enough money to keep up with the payments on the property for half a year after her passing. Her reasoning was that Flynn would probably have been unprepared to take on the financial burden immediately if he decided to keep the house. She’d left him with a window of opportunity to either find a job or come up with a solution that would enable him to afford the house. 

Should he decide to sell, the money was his to keep along with whatever he made from the property. There had been several competing bids on the property despite his grandmother’s refusal to sell. Flynn was suddenly looking at the possibility of being financially secure for a good many years.

He looked over the offers to be thorough, but even as he leafed through the pages of prospective buyers, he knew he didn’t want to sell. There had been a weight lifted from his shoulders since arriving. He felt free and energized. The house was his opportunity to stay. All he needed to do was figure out a way he could afford it.

As he left the office a couple hours later, Flynn’s mind was whirling with possibilities. House payments, property taxes, and the cost of upkeep would be prohibitively expensive on a rookie cop’s starting salary, leaving his initial impulse to move into the beach house impossible. 

He could opt to sell the house and simply take the money, maybe even use it to find another place in Driftwood Cove. That idea didn’t sit well with him, though. It made him feel as if he’d be giving up on a part of himself that he’d been missing. An important part of his childhood was tied to that house, and life on the beach wouldn’t have quite the same meaning without the hope that he could one day return there. 

The third option available to him, the one that seemed most likely to allow him to keep the house and move into it once he could afford to, was to turn the place into a bed and breakfast. By renting it out to tourists, he could keep up with bills, and maybe also earn a little extra for himself. And, if Yuri was interested in a job as combination cook and handyman, all the better.

Lost in thought, Flynn didn’t realize someone was trying to get his attention until he was grabbed by the shoulder and spun around to see the grinning face of the pushy blond flirt that had been bothering Yuri on the beach the other day.

“Dude, lost in the clouds much? I thought for a minute you were snubbing me.”

“No. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just wanted to have a quick chat.” He jerked his chin at the coffee shop across the street. “Come on.”

Flynn didn’t move. “What could you possibly want to talk to me about?”

Adrien looked him up and down critically before turning his smile back on. “Probably the only thing you and I have in common.” He walked off, leaving Flynn to follow along in his wake.

The coffee shop was one of those ubiquitous trendy ones that were practically invisible anywhere else for their sheer familiarity. It felt out of place in Driftwood Cove, a piece of a different world that had intruded into the simple pleasures of sun, sand, and surf. Flynn took a seat on one of the couches in the back and waited as Adrien got himself an iced, creamed, fluffed, designer coffee drink before dropping into a chair across the tiny table.

“Are you and Yuri seeing each other?” Flynn didn’t feel the need to waste any more time on social niceties. Plus, he’d always been a fan of the direct approach. If this little chat had been intended to warn him off, Adrien was going to need a lot more than the pretense of friendliness to manage it.

Adrien laughed. “And here I was worried about you being competition. No way is a straight arrow like you his type.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means he’s a slut, and a bit of a kinky one at that.”

Flynn’s face went cold. “Yuri is not—”

“Yuri has a reputation. He slept with me the first time I asked him out. Tied my hands behind my back and rode me till he nearly passed out. Son of a bitch bites, too. Hard. Same routine every time. Shirt on, lights off. He can’t get off without tying someone up.”

“I don’t have to listen to this.”

“Loosen up, man. If he doesn’t complain, I don’t see what gives you the right. Pull the stick out of your ass and have a go with him while you’re in town. He’s a pretty good fuck for a charity case.”

That was when Flynn lunged across the table and grabbed Adrien by the collar, hauling him bodily forward. 

“He’s a person, you asshole! Stay the hell away from him or next time I see you I’ll break your nose.” 

He shoved Adrien back into the seat and stood to leave. People were staring. He’d caused a scene, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Before he could go, however, a tall, purple-haired woman in a bikini and sheer sarong approached. 

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing just now. Here, let’s get you straightened out.” 

She helped Adrien out of the chair, even straightened his shirt, as Flynn looked on, dumbfounded. Then, with a perfectly friendly smile, she pulled back and decked him. Adrien went down like a ton of bricks, right through the table, and the woman cracked her knuckles and turned to Flynn.

“Just finishing what you couldn’t. Good to meet you, Flynn. Come on. Let’s go find Yuri.”

They left Adrien on his back on the floor, whimpering and cradling his bleeding nose. Nobody made a move to stop them.

Outside, Flynn finally found his voice. “How do you know who I am?”

“Hmm? I wonder.” Her smile had turned teasing and she didn’t answer his question.

Realizing that there was only one person who could have told her about him, Flynn blushed. “I don’t know your name.”

“You can call me Judith. Now that we’re acquainted, may I ask why you felt the need to hold back in there?”

“I…I _really_ wanted to hit him.” He still did. The way Adrien had talked about Yuri, the smug tone of his voice…. “He deserved it for what he said, but…I’m going to be a police officer. I can’t just fly off the handle because some lowlife pisses me off.”

Judith considered his answer for a moment. “I suppose that’s acceptable. At least you tried to warn him off. I’ve found that a show of force works better with those types, though.”

“I don’t doubt it.” There was nothing he could do, though. He shouldn’t even have threatened the man. Adrien was right: if Yuri had been willing, then Flynn had no right to intervene, no matter how badly he wanted to. He thought of Yuri, sleeping alone in his cave overlooking the sea, and wondered if he was actually any better off sharing a bed for the night with someone like Adrien.

A sudden realization struck Flynn cold and he stopped in his tracks. Yuri had said he’d never slept over at a friend’s place, but Adrien wasn’t a friend, surely. He said he’d learned to cook by borrowing people’s kitchens. Had he cooked for Adrien? The thought of Yuri making breakfast for someone who treated him like…like a _whore_ made Flynn feel sick. He grit his teeth. Yuri _had_ to have more pride than that. Adrien had tried to buy him with a crepe pan, for heaven’s sake!

“If you’re coming, at least try to keep up,” Judith called back over her shoulder.

Shaking his head did nothing to quell his anger, but Flynn made an effort to focus and follow Judith through town until they came to an access path to the beach that spilled out near the lifeguard post. He had to stop again to pull off his shoes and socks. He wasn’t dressed for the beach. Sweat trickled down his skin, tickly and maddening. It didn’t help that he was still fuming. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off too, using it to wipe his face and neck. 

Judith had made it to the post ahead of him. He saw Yuri scramble down the ladder, grinning his widest as he greeted her. She said something and gestured to where Flynn was making his way across the sand and Yuri turned to see him, his expression easing back from the delight he’d met Judith with.

“Hey, you met Judy. She’s a good friend of mine,”

Flynn opened his mouth, not entirely sure what he was about to say. He didn’t get the chance to find out either, as Judith spoke up.

“Sorry I couldn’t come back under better circumstances, Yuri. I’m just here to let you know that Zagi’s come back.”

Yuri blanched, and the sight of it surprised Flynn enough to wash his anger away.

“Are you sure? You said—” He stopped when he realized Flynn was staring at him. “Go back to the beach house, Flynn.”

“What’s going on? Who’s Zagi?”

“None of your business. Forget you even heard the name. Just get back to the house.”

“You’ve got no right to order me around.”

“What’s going on?” Estelle had come up out of the ocean when she saw that Flynn was back, and joined the group now, puzzlement rapidly changing to concern as she studied their faces.

“Flynn’s got heat exhaustion,” Yuri said. 

“Yuri!” Flynn’s angry shout went unheeded as Estelle latched onto his arm and started examining him.

“Flynn, I think he’s right. You don’t look so good. I can feel your pulse racing.”

“Get him inside and make sure he drinks plenty of water.”

“Right away! Come on.” Estelle tightened her grip on Flynn’s arm and started to pull him back towards the house.

“I don’t have heat exhaustion. I’m fine, I promise!”

She ignored him, dragging him away from Yuri and Judith and their secrets. He heard Yuri say: “You said he couldn’t escape” before distance and the wind muffled the rest of the conversation. Grimly, he let Estelle lead him back to the beach house. Let Judith tell Yuri whatever it was he needed to know. He’d have to go home sooner or later. Flynn would wait for him there and find out what the hell was going on.

As soon as Estelle was convinced that he wasn’t in any danger of passing out from the heat, Flynn changed into his swim trunks, threw a t-shirt into a large Ziploc bag, and headed down to the cove. He swam straight for Yuri’s cave and made himself at home, lighting candles and borrowing a blanket to dry off before pulling on the t-shirt he’d brought. 

He looked through Yuri’s things again, searching for any clues about him, about the life he led, the people he knew, but, aside from the numerous carved animals, Yuri’s personal effects were frustratingly spartan. Flynn was beginning to think Yuri simply wasn’t inclined to get attached to anything when a slip of paper fell out of the pages of a cookbook he’d been flipping through.

Sliding the book carefully back into place, Flynn picked up the scrap of paper and stared. It was a set of stickers from one of those photo booths that had been so popular for a while when he was a kid. He held five frames of himself and Yuri goofing off for the camera, grinning and pulling faces and just…happy. It was crumpled and water-stained and had begun to tear near the top, but Yuri had kept it. He’d kept it for fourteen years while Flynn had forgotten all about him.

No longer feeling up to arguing, Flynn put the photos back in the cookbook and laid himself down on Yuri’s bed. Beneath the brackish odor of the ocean, the sharp smell of cheap soap, and the scent of spices, Flynn could smell Yuri. He buried his nose in the blanket and inhaled, searching for that faint trace of him. It was a comforting smell, and brought back memories of wrestling on the grass outside Grandma Moira’s house, hiding together in a cupboard after breaking one of her decorative bottles, drifting off together in that very same cave after a long day of swimming and exploring the overgrown areas around the town.

Everything about that summer had been warm and bright. They were some of the last happy memories he had before his dad had been killed. There had been family cookouts on the beach. Flynn’s dad had put on a fireworks show. He’d showed Flynn and Yuri some self-defense moves. Yuri had liked Flynn’s dad. He must have heard about what happened. Grandma Moira must have told him.

Clenching his fists in Yuri’s sheets, Flynn let the memories fill him up, bittersweet and priceless. He ached for what he had lost, for that amazing summer that he’d taken for granted. It was in the past, though, and all he could do was be grateful that he had found that piece of himself that he hadn’t even realized was missing before an unexpected inheritance had him suddenly eager to uproot his life and move down to this town beside the sea. They were all different now—himself and Yuri and the town—but Flynn still felt, with a certainty he couldn’t bring himself to ignore, that moving to Driftwood Cove would be the best thing he had done in years.

He drifted off imagining his new life at the ocean, living in the beach house with Yuri.

\------------------------

“Hey. You’re taking up my bed and it’s time for me to go to sleep. Get out.” With a quick heave, Yuri rolled Flynn off the blankets and onto the cold stone floor. In seconds, he had taken his place and was wrapped up in the covers, curled up facing the wall.

“Yuri? Hey, wait. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

“What?”

“You wanted to know about Zagi, right? I’ll tell you tomorrow after I get off work, so just leave me alone for now and let me sleep.”

“Why don’t you come spend the night at the beach house?”

“I’m not going to run off, Flynn, I promise.” He could almost hear Yuri rolling his eyes.

“Can I stay here, then?”

“Estelle will worry.”

“She knows I came to find you.”

When Yuri didn’t say anything else, Flynn decided to take his chances and crawled back onto the blankets where he curled up behind Yuri.

“Keep your hands to yourself, or I’ll throw you into the ocean.” It wasn’t an idle threat, but Flynn hadn’t been planning on starting anything, anyway. Well, at least not if Yuri wasn’t interested.

“I went and talked to the attorney today. Apparently Grandma Moira had set aside some money that was to be used to make payments on the property for six months after her passing. She wanted to make sure I had enough time to get everything worked out if I decided to keep the house. Not that I’d be able to afford it on a policeman’s starting salary.”

Yuri shifted beneath the blanket he’d wrapped around himself. When he settled once again, he was pressed as close to the wall—and as far away from Flynn—as he could get.

“I thought about it, though, and I may have come up with something. If I turn the house into a bed and breakfast for a few years, it’ll pay for itself until I’m promoted to a position where I can afford to live there. I mean, I’ve still got a year of school to finish up, but after that, I was thinking it would be really nice to move—”

“Would you mind dreaming a little quieter? You’re keeping me awake, and I can’t afford to fall asleep on the job.”

Flynn quieted, but he moved closer until he could feel the warmth of Yuri’s body, smell him beneath the salt tang.

“Goodnight, Yuri.”

“…’Night.”


	4. Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the UNABRIDGED chapter. If you want to skip the (poorly written) sex scenes, please go look up the story on ff.net. There’s a link in my profile.  
> Now back to your regularly scheduled author’s notes.
> 
> If you’ve noticed my repeated references to Yuri always having a shirt on and thought that was weird, props to you. There is a reason for that which is revealed in this chapter. Also, the urban fantasy part finally kicks in. Thanks for waiting. :D
> 
> …I like writing smitten!Flynn. :I
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

In the morning, Yuri woke Flynn much the same way he had last night. Not quite sure where he was at first, Flynn peered around, blind in the unlit cave. He heard a quiet laugh, the sound of it too feminine to be Yuri, and a moment later the storm lantern came to life in Yuri’s hand. He was frowning at Judith who stood leaning up against the side of a bookshelf, watching them.

“It’s about time you quit dreaming. I was wondering how long it was going to take you to realize you had company.”

“You could have woken me.”

“Oh, but you simply looked so relaxed. I didn’t have the heart.”

“Won’t happen again.”

Still groggy, though rapidly getting up to speed with the rest of the world, Flynn looked back and forth between them. True, he didn’t know Judith at all, but only an idiot would have missed the edge to her smile and the warning in her words. There had been more to that conversation than a simple morning exchange between friends. 

He remembered Yuri’s words from the day before. Someone had escaped, someone that Judith had felt the need to come warn Yuri about.

“Go back to the beach house, Flynn. I need to talk to Judy.”

“You said you’d tell me what’s going on.”

Although she didn’t say anything, Judith looked at them both appraisingly at that. He couldn’t be sure in the dim light of the storm lantern, but Flynn thought that Yuri was blushing.

“After work. I’ll meet you at the cove.”

As he stood to leave, Flynn was struck with a sudden impulse. He reached out, grabbing Yuri’s arm and pulling him close enough to kiss his cheek. When he moved back, he gave Yuri his cheeriest smile.

“Have a good day at work!” 

As he left, one of Yuri’s little carved animals flew through the air to bounce off the back of his head, accompanied by a muttered: “Corny asshole.” He smiled to himself as he stooped to make his way out.

“So, he’s the one?”

Flynn could hear Judith as he crawled through the narrow space to the cave mouth. Apparently, Yuri didn’t realize how well sound carried in the cavern. He couldn’t stop without them noticing, but he could slow down a little.

“Yes.” Yuri sighed. “Judy, I think I am well and truly fucked.”

“He seems nice.”

“Don’t let that charming little smile of his fool you.”

Whatever Judith said in response was lost as the roar of the ocean rushed in over the conversation. Flynn sighed and added one more thing to his mental list of things to talk to Yuri about as he began the short swim back.

As it turned out, Estelle _had_ been worried.

“What were you _thinking_? You were out all night! Do you know how worried I was?”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“You didn’t even call to let me know you were going to be spending the night! Yuri didn’t know for sure where you were, and you’d only said you wanted to talk to him, not—oh.” She smiled suddenly. “Was I right? Does he like you, too? What did you two talk about?”

“No, um, we didn’t really talk.” He remembered snooping through Yuri’s things and finding the old pictures. It didn’t seem like something he could tell her.

“Oh my gosh, _Flynn_!” She giggled, and Flynn realized he should have chosen his words with more care.

“No, you don’t understand. He was tired when he got home, so we just kind of…slept.”

“You had me worried sick about you, and you were just _sleeping_?”

Seeing that there really was nothing he could say that wouldn’t dig him in deeper, Flynn gave up and let Estelle scold him. When she seemed satisfied, he offered to treat her to a parfait at the cake shop Yuri had mentioned. With that, everything was forgiven and forgotten and Estelle let him go put on some clean clothes to take her into town.

As they were leaving, Flynn noticed an old, unpainted iron nail sticking out of the top of the doorframe.

“Where did that come from?”

Estelle looked where he pointed. “I don’t know. Maybe Yuri put it there? He left me alone with Judith for a while when they came over.”

“Both of them were here yesterday while I was gone?” Had he misjudged Yuri? Would he have learned what was going on if he’d just stayed put until Yuri had processed Judith’s news?

“Yeah. They came to visit for a while. You really should have stayed. Yuri cooked for us.” She looked back up at the nail. “Should we take it out?”

“…No. Leave it be, for now. It’s not hurting anything.” He glanced back at the windows while he held the door open. Were those more nails in the corners of the windowsills, or just shadows on the curtains? Shaking his head, he locked up and they headed into town.

They spent the day getting lost in town and finding their way around, checking out hidden shops along out-of-the-way side streets. As they explored, Flynn outlined his plans for the beach house to Estelle, working through details as he thought out loud and bounced ideas off her. He talked about coming back to spend the rest of the summer getting the house ready to rent so that he would be able to handle the payments once his grandmother’s provision ran out. He mentioned the need for some kind of lights to illuminate the path down the cliff. He would need someone to take care of the lawn and encroaching overgrowth while he was away. The house itself was in great condition and would only need upkeep, barring any damage done by storms or accidents. 

Estelle listened as he talked excitedly about the possibilities, occasionally making a suggestion or asking a question to refocus him. She was thoughtful and supportive, but when Flynn paused between sections in a used bookstore to look at her, there was a wistfulness in her expression he hadn’t expected.

“Something wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. It’s just…I’ll miss you. You’re kind of my white knight.” She smiled, easily switching back to her normal, cheerful self. “You have to promise to invite me to stay with you, all right? Even before you move into the beach house.” She considered for a minute before adding: “You should invite Sodia, too. She’s going to be pretty upset when she hears you’re moving.”

“I still have to graduate. I won’t be moving down here for another year, if I can even manage it. If I can’t get a job—”

“You’ll figure something out. This place makes you happy, Flynn. You deserve to be happy.”

“Thanks.” He turned back to the shelf. They’d ended up in the cooking section, and looking over the cookbooks gave him an idea.

“Hey, do you know what a crepe pan looks like?”

\------------------------

They ate dinner at home that night without Yuri. Estelle stood guard over the spices while Flynn cooked, doling them out only when their intended application met her approval. Flynn bore her supervision with long-suffering acceptance. He still didn’t believe his cooking was that bad.

Whether or not the result would have been different if Estelle had had any faith in Flynn’s ability, the chicken turned out very tasty. They talked while they ate, chatting about the stores in town and the logistics of moving. Flynn mentioned the shop where he had rented a board the day before and offered to teach Estelle to surf when she visited.

“You talk like you already live here.”

“Sorry. I guess I am going a little fast with this, huh?” He pushed a piece of chicken around his plate with his fork. “Is this crazy? I mean, I hadn’t really thought of this place in years, and now all of a sudden I’m talking about moving here. I love it here, I really do, and I think I’d be happy, but….”

“But…?”

“I don’t know. It just feels so…impulsive.”

“Flynn, you’re pretty level-headed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you walk into a situation that you couldn’t handle. If you think moving here is the right decision for you, if you think it’ll make you happy, then I believe it will. Maybe coming here was love at first sight for you. Or second sight, I suppose.”

It was a little embarrassing to hear it phrased like that, but he had to admit, she wasn’t far off. He’d always believed in love at first sight, but it had never occurred to him that it could be applied to a place. That was exactly what it felt like, though, and if that love was making him act like an idiot, then so be it. He had been given a chance to follow his heart, and he was going to take it.

Estelle smiled at him like she knew what he was thinking, and he plucked a mushroom out of his salad and tossed it at her. She squeaked and giggled and soon baby carrots and lettuce leaves were flying across the dining room as laughter filled the house and spilled though the open windows into the cool evening air.

\------------------------

Yuri was sitting on the sand when Flynn made his way down to the cove after cleaning up the mess he and Estelle had created. He looked cold sitting there alone in the dark. Flynn dropped down next to him and noticed that his shirt had mostly dried from the swim over. He’d been there for a while.

“You should have joined us for dinner. We had plenty.”

“I think I’ve mooched off you enough. Besides, it sounded like you two were having fun.”

Hating the way he’d said that—as if it wouldn’t have been fun with him around, as if he didn’t belong—Flynn sighed and passed Yuri the crepe pan he’d bought in town that day. 

“Here. You wanted one of these, right? It’s yours.” He watched for a moment as Yuri took the pan and studied it, surprised. “Your place isn’t really set up for crepes, so you can leave it at the beach house. That way, if you want to use it, you’ll have to come visit me.”

“You underestimate my skills. I could always sneak in and use it while you’re out. Or asleep.” He buffed the side of the pan with the pad of his thumb. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“I don’t want you to go back to Adrien.” It was supposed to be symbolic, a gesture to show Yuri that he could have what he needed from someone who actually respected him. As he wondered whether Yuri would get the message, it suddenly seemed pretty stupid to Flynn.

“So…you’re propositioning me with cookware?” It was the worst possible interpretation.

“I wasn’t propositioning you! I want to go out with you, yes, but only if you want me, too. I wasn’t trying to buy my way into your bed. I’m not like him!”

“Adrien doesn’t…okay, he does a little, but it’s not entirely like that.”

“It shouldn’t be like that at all. Do you love him?”

Yuri eyed him evenly for a moment. “I’m not going to talk to you about this if you’re going to be stupid about it. Whatever Adrien and I have between us has nothing to do with love. It’s just scratching an itch. Maybe things are all sunshine and rainbows when you’re walking around with your head in the clouds, but it doesn’t work that way for me.”

“I’m not saying things have to be perfect, I just wish you’d choose someone better than him.”

“I will answer one personal question if we can drop this subject.”

“Really?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“No,” Flynn said, thoughtfully. “Why is that? You were perfectly okay with lying to Estelle earlier to get what you wanted.” He looked up to meet Yuri’s eyes. “That’s my question. What makes me special?”

“You sure that’s the question you want to pick?” When Flynn nodded, he sighed. “All right. The reason I won’t lie to you is because I remember when you lied to me.”

“What? When?” That hadn’t been the answer he’d expected at all. ‘Because you’re my friend,’ maybe, or: ‘Because I like you, duh.’ Not something like that.

“Sorry. One question per customer.”

“But this relates to my question.”

“You should’ve read the fine print. Better luck next time.”

“I want a do-over.”

“Too bad.” 

Yuri lunged at him and they tussled on the sand, rolling over each other playfully at first, until one of them—Flynn wasn’t even really sure who—began shoving a little harder, striking out with just a little more precision. Soon, they were fighting in earnest, testing each other to see what moves were new, who had grown the strongest over the years. They were coated in sand, bruised and panting and grinning when the fight ended. Flynn had won. He’d pinned Yuri down and was holding one of his arms behind his back.

“Say ‘uncle.’”

“Screw you.”

“I’d offer you best two out of three, but—” He’d started to let Yuri go, but paused when he noticed an odd pattern over Yuri’s spine where his shirt had ridden up.

“Did you get a tattoo?” He knew he was wrong even as he asked the question. That wasn’t ink. It looked like…looked like….

Yuri yanked his arm free and rolled over. “You’ve gotten stronger,” he said. His voice shook. He grinned, but it was obviously forced. 

“What’s wrong with your back?” Flynn tried to reach beneath him, digging his fingers between the warmth of Yuri’s body and the sand as he tried to gain the leverage he needed to flip him over.

“You can get off me now. Weren’t you the one worried about Estelle seeing something she shouldn’t?”

“Yuri, why are there _scales on your back_?”

Trapped against the sand, Yuri went perfectly still, his face gone pale as the moon. Flynn could feel him beginning to shake. The stalemate lasted for several long seconds before Yuri found his voice, unsteady though it was.

“You need to get off of me right now.”

“Only if you promise not to run away.” He eased back, watching, ready to grab Yuri’s arm at the first sign that he might bolt. 

He’d seen something he wasn’t meant to, something more important than his objections about Adrien, more important than finding out about Zagi. This was something Yuri had taken pains to hide. How had he never noticed that something was wrong? 

Thinking back, he couldn’t remember _ever_ having seen Yuri shirtless, even when they were children. No matter how hot it got, no matter if they were swimming in the ocean or searching for shells on the beach, Yuri had never, ever taken his shirt off in front of Flynn. He could remember teasing him about it at first, but eventually it had just become one of Yuri’s quirks, like not living in a house or never talking about his parents.

This wasn’t a new secret like Adrien or Zagi. It wasn’t even a secret the way Yuri’s homelessness had been, something that was acknowledged but never talked about. This was something Yuri had been hiding from everyone for a long time. 

As he gathered himself and stood, Yuri yanked compulsively at the hem of his shirt long after it was no longer in danger of exposing anything. He kept his face turned away from Flynn, though he never turned his back. Watching him, Flynn reached out instinctively, trying to offer some kind of comfort. When Yuri flinched away from him though, he dropped his hand back to his side, fingers curling into a fist.

“What—”

“Not here.” Yuri shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I don’t want to talk about it out here. Let’s go back to my place.”

He let Yuri take the lead, half worried that he would try to slip away once they were in the ocean, but Yuri never even dove beneath the surface. Whether he was actually trying to show Flynn that he wasn’t going to run away, or simply delaying the inevitable, Yuri swam leisurely, allowing Flynn to keep pace with him. Even as Yuri disappeared into the cave, Flynn could see that his face was sickly pale in the moonlight.

Though he’d been slow in the water, Yuri was quick to get the storm lantern lit and hung up from a hook anchored in the ceiling. By the time Flynn stepped into the living area, Yuri had tucked himself against the wall of the cavern where it curved around his bed. He sat there with his legs stretched over the blankets, staring at his hands where they rested limply in his lap.

Flynn sat down beside him, just within arm’s reach, and waited for Yuri to begin.

“I guess you won’t just forget you saw that.”

“No. Are you…? Is it some kind of illness?”

Yuri snorted. “Nope. I’m pretty sure it’s genetic.”

“So, then your mom or your dad…?”

“I never knew my father.”

He’d sort of suspected—once he had come back and was old enough to put some of the pieces together—that Yuri hadn’t known his parents. No responsible adults would have left their son to roam around completely unsupervised for an entire summer. Now, though, it seemed he had at least had a mother for a while.

“What happened?”

“He was eaten by a mermaid.”

When Flynn snapped his head up at that, Yuri was waiting to meet his eyes. There was no humor in his expression, nothing to show he was joking. The thought that Yuri had never lied to him ran through Flynn’s mind and he shook his head in disbelief.

“That’s not funny.”

Eyes like storm clouds stared him down without a spark of amusement. Yuri was serious.

“Those stories you told….”

“I said it wasn’t nonsense, didn’t I?”

Flynn sagged against the stone. It was reassuringly solid. It _had_ to be a joke. Yuri hadn’t lied to him before, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. He couldn’t seriously be saying that he was….

“So, then your mother…?”

“My mother was a mermaid. My father was human.”

It wasn’t possible. Mermaids were just creatures from fairy tales. _And horror stories_ , Flynn thought, remembering how Yuri had described their hunt for mates. Yuri was human. He had to be human.

“Can I see?” He hadn’t meant to say it. The words just slipped out. 

As he looked at Yuri, tensed up and so close to panicking that Flynn could read it in his face, he knew that the entirety of their relationship hinged on how he handled what Yuri had told him. Nobody else knew about this. He had slept with Adrien, and Adrien had no idea. He thought….

Oh, God. That’s why Yuri tied his hands: to keep him from touching and finding out. Adrien had told the truth about the what, but he didn’t understand the why. Yuri had just let him think whatever he wanted.

As Flynn considered this, horrified and freshly angry both at Yuri and on his behalf, he started a little as Yuri moved away from the wall and settled down with his back to him. Slowly, Yuri pulled off his shirt and dragged the mass of his hair over one shoulder.

Flynn gaped. Nearly the entirety of Yuri’s back, from the base of his neck all the way down his spine, was covered in tiny scales. They shone softly in the dim light, silvery and mottled with patches of charcoal, and faded naturally into his skin below the crests of his shoulders and down along his sides. They rose and fell with his breaths, shifted like skin when he moved. 

Unthinking, Flynn reached out and brushed aside a lock of Yuri’s hair to push it over his shoulder with the rest. His fingers brushed the scales and Yuri jumped.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to. ” He hesitated, biting his lip, hand still extended between them. “Can I touch you?”

He shrugged, and Flynn was mesmerized by the way the light played across the scales— _Yuri’s_ scales. Gently, he rested the tips of his fingers against the nape of Yuri’s neck, studying the bunching of muscles in Yuri’s back when he shivered. He stroked all the way down Yuri’s spine, marveling at the silken softness, the human warmth. They didn’t feel like fish scales at all.

Yuri shifted as he touched, but remained silent. The more Flynn’s hands roamed, the less he was able to sit still until finally it occurred to Flynn that he was probably the first person who had touched Yuri’s unclothed back in years. Wonder quickly gave way before the realization that what was happening, innocent though it was, was incredibly intimate.

“Sorry. Should I stop?” 

“You satisfied that I was telling the truth?”

“It’s still difficult to believe. Even now I can’t just nod and smile and accept all this. It doesn’t feel real.”

“Why don’t you scratch my back while you’re processing? It’s been a while.”

Glad to have an excuse to touch him again, Flynn obliged. Yuri’s shoulders drooped as he sagged against Flynn’s hands, and he sighed.

“Yeah. Just like that.” He rolled his shoulders and Flynn’s nails caught, tearing a scale free and making Yuri hiss.

“Sor—”

“Did I say stop? Don’t worry. It’ll grow back.”

Flynn eyed the bead of red blood that had welled up on Yuri’s back. It shouldn’t have comforted him, but it did. Yuri bled like any other human. He was still Yuri. He hadn’t changed, it was only that Flynn had learned something new about him. He’d wanted to know more about Yuri ever since they’d been reunited, after all. Now, he’d gotten his wish.

Impulsively, Flynn leaned in and kissed Yuri’s shoulder, right at the juncture where scales faded into ordinary skin. Yuri froze.

“What are you doing?”

Smiling, Flynn nuzzled his back, kissing the knob of Yuri’s spine at the base of his neck. He tasted like salt, like the ocean.

“Flynn—” 

When Yuri turned around to face him, Flynn seized his chance and brought their lips together. He buried one hand in Yuri’s hair, slipped the other around his back to run fingers gently up and down over his scales. Gradually, Yuri relaxed, even kissed him back with growing urgency. He ran his fingers through Flynn’s hair, slid his hands down his chest, up under the hem of his shirt, and around to the smooth, human skin of Flynn’s back. On an upstroke, Flynn’s nails caught on Yuri’s scales again, making him gasp and arch his back. They were both breathing a little hard when Flynn broke the kiss, pulling his hand away and leaning back just enough to meet Yuri’s eyes.

“Sorry.”

“You will be if you stop touching me.” Yuri bore him down onto the blankets, mouth finding Flynn’s again and humming in approval as Flynn’s hands resumed their exploration of his back. 

Lost in the kiss, in the feel of Yuri’s tongue sliding against his, Yuri’s weight pressing down on him, Flynn forgot to be careful with his hands. Yuri moaned and gasped into the kiss, writhing on top of him and grinding their hips together as Flynn’s wandering hands dug into his back, stroking and scratching against the grain and dislodging scales. 

Suddenly desperate to get his own shirt off, to put them skin-to-skin, Flynn rolled them over and wound up settled between Yuri’s legs. He yanked his shirt off and tossed it aside. As he moved to resume the kiss, he caught a glimpse of his hands, saw the blood he’d drawn, and froze.

“Yuri—” he started, but Yuri’s hands were in his hair, pulling him back down to kiss him breathless. He turned his face away, tried again to speak, and groaned as Yuri wrapped his legs around Flynn’s waist and ground into him.

“Yuri, wait,” he managed. He felt Yuri go slack beneath him, legs sliding back down to lie flat on the bed.

“Not so interested now that you’ve seen what I am?”

“That is _not_ the issue here. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, that’s not really a problem for me.” To prove his point, he arched up against Flynn once more, demonstrating that he was, indeed, very much enjoying himself and sending a shiver up Flynn’s spine from the friction between them.

“What about…” Feeling suddenly awkward—was he going too fast?—Flynn searched for a word, settling on: “…preparations?”

“Shower bag, vinyl pouch.”

Flynn scrambled off the bed, half eager to get some distance to clear his head, half anticipating finding what they would need to continue. There was a small pouch in the bottom of the mesh bag, and he dumped a little bottle of lube out of it into his hand. About to return to the bed, he jumped as Yuri wrapped his arms around him from behind and planted a kiss underneath his ear, sucking a little at his skin.

“You’re not worried at all?” he murmured. Flynn felt teeth against his neck. “I might eat you up.”

“Adrien slept with you and lived to tell the tale.” He regretted the words immediately, but Yuri’s expression was darkly humorous.

“I think,” he said, ducking his head to nip at Flynn’s neck as he spoke, “that there…are a few…important…differences.” He bit down on the meat of Flynn’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and sucked, marking him. Shuddering, Flynn leaned against him and inhaled sharply when Yuri slipped a hand down his stomach and into his swim trunks.

“Sure you want to go through with this?” Yuri whispered the words into his ear, making Flynn shiver.

“No fair asking now. You’ve got me at a disadvantage.” 

He twitched, straining against the urge to thrust into Yuri’s hand as it stroked and squeezed and teased. Biting his lip, he leaned his head back against Yuri’s shoulder, barely feeling the hand stroking his hair back from his forehead or the kisses dusted along his cheek and jaw over the mounting pressure between his legs and the maddening feel of Yuri’s hand on his cock. He let Yuri take the lead, touching however he wanted, drawing things out and being altogether too good at that than he had any right to be. Flynn moaned at the finish and sagged against Yuri who laughed softly as he steadied him.

“Hope you still have it in you to help me out, here.”

“Oh, yes.” He steadied himself and turned, pulling Yuri flush against him for a kiss. He let his hands wander up and down his back again, paying attention this time to the tug and pull of the scales beneath his fingers and the way Yuri sighed appreciatively into the kiss and pushed himself harder against Flynn’s body.

“Think we need to go back to the bed for this,” Flynn murmured.

Back on the pile of blankets, he knelt before Yuri, stripping him completely bare as he did so. Where Yuri had used his hand, Flynn used his mouth and was rewarded with a drawn-out moan and the sight of Yuri’s face gone slack with pleasure.

The thought that Adrien had seen Yuri like this flashed through his mind and he pushed it quickly away. This had nothing to do with bottle-blond beach bums. It was about Yuri and himself and the connection between them, lost to him for years and now rediscovered and changed into something new and just as wonderful, a serendipitous blessing out of somber circumstances. He concentrated instead on working his jaw and tongue, on Yuri’s breaths and moans and the little jerks of his hips and his fingers in Flynn’s hair. 

With his release, Yuri sank to his knees and leaned heavily against Flynn, letting his arms dangle between them as Flynn stroked his back.

“I didn’t expect you to be so good at that. Not as innocent as you look, are you?”

“Careful,” Flynn said, remembering Yuri’s comment from the other night. “You almost sound like you’re interested in me.”

“Ass.” Yuri laughed and lifted his face to kiss him again, long and slow and completely unperturbed by the taste of himself on Flynn’s tongue. 

Slowly, they sank down into the blankets, touching and tasting, eager to continue. Flynn kissed a trail down Yuri’s chest, lingering only once, long enough to leave a mark over his heart, proof that he’d been trusted with Yuri’s secret. He reached out, blindly fumbling for the tube he’d dropped on the bed only a few minutes before. When he found it, he pulled back a little, bracing himself over Yuri with one hand, and brushing aside a lock of his dark hair with the other.

“Are you all right to continue?”

“Would I have told you where to find the lube if I wasn’t? Lose the shorts and get on with it.”

“I had no idea you were such a romantic.”

Yuri grinned. “Don’t be gay, Flynn.” He expected the swat to the shoulder and laughed it off as Flynn opened the tube and let some of the contents warm for a moment on his fingers.

“What’s taking so—oh.” He squirmed as Flynn pressed a finger inside him. “’Bout time.”

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, but his tone was affectionate. Smiling, he drank in the sight of Yuri flushed and eager beneath him. Adding a second finger drew a moan from Yuri as he pushed himself against Flynn’s hand, wordlessly begging him to continue. Flynn scissored his fingers, working the muscles loose, deliberately taking his time to tease Yuri who was growing harder and more restless by the moment.

“Damn, Flynn, do I have to promise to answer another of your stupid questions before you’ll actually fuck me?”

“Tempting, but I don’t think I should be resorting to blackmail this early in our relationship.”

“What rela—“ Yuri groaned as Flynn added a third finger. “Please?” he tried when it seemed Flynn was going to continue taking his sweet time.

“The magic word.” Flynn freed his fingers. He’d applied a coating of lube to his erection while teasing Yuri and it was the work of a moment to position himself.

“Are you—“

“Yes, goddamn dawdling asshole just—Fuck!” He gasped and Flynn gave him a moment to relax before pushing the rest of the way inside him.

“You’re noisy.”

“You haven’t heard noisy.” He cried out when Flynn moved inside him, wrapping his arms around Flynn’s back, digging his fingers into flesh. Soon, he barely had breath left for words as he panted and moaned while Flynn thrust into him, leaving behind his earlier gentleness as Yuri urged him on.

“Fuck!” he gasped. “Fuck…Flynn!” He bucked when Flynn’s hand wrapped around his erection. 

“Good…for you?”

“Fuck do you think?” He shouted wordlessly as Flynn found just the right angle. “Just like that…!”

Flynn lost himself in the rhythm of thrusts and gasps, in the feeling of Yuri clenched tight around him, hot and slick, and God, he was beautiful. That long hair of his was spread out everywhere. His skin, damp with sweat and creamy pale from being hidden from the sun, seemed to glow softly under the light of the lantern. His eyes were dark and glittering and looking everywhere but into Flynn’s own until Flynn grabbed his hand and pressed it against his chest for Yuri to feel the pounding of his heart.

He wanted to draw it out, but being inside Yuri felt amazing and he could already feel himself losing control of the ability to pace himself, to slow down and make their first time last. He worked his hand around Yuri’s cock, determined to see him satisfied before he finished and found himself drained and lethargic and unable to attend to him properly. Yuri cried out and bucked and clawed Flynn’s back, uninhibited in his expression of the mix of pleasure and pain that shot through him with every movement. He shouted as his orgasm took him, and clung shaking to Flynn. A minute later, Flynn made one final thrust and spent himself, crying out Yuri’s name and slumping over him.

They lay like that for some time, chests heaving, hearts racing, and sweat-soaked bodies cooling even as the afterglow left them feeling warm and satisfied. Flynn nuzzled Yuri’s neck, tenderly kissing any spot he could reach without lifting his head. He tasted more of sweat than the sea now.

“So…you do this with every half-breed fae you meet?”

“I can safely say you’re the first.”

“You’d be surprised. There’re more of us than you think.” He pushed Flynn away in order to roll onto his stomach, nesting his chin in his crossed arms. Flynn sat up, wiping himself off with a corner of the blanket. They’d need to get cleaned up soon.

“Adrien’s got _something_ back in his ancestry. Not sure what.”

That got Flynn’s attention, and he jerked his head up to look at Yuri. “Does he know about you?”

“No. He probably doesn’t know about himself. I could taste it.” He bared his teeth in a grin.

Remembering Adrien’s comment about Yuri’s inclination to bite, Flynn reached up to touch the mark Yuri had left on his shoulder.

“What about me?”

“Human, through and through. Kinda surprising, considering your grandmother.” He sighed. “Flynn, all that stuff you gathered up the other day had been intended to protect the house and whoever lived there from faeries. You should put it back.”

“It didn’t affect you. I noticed the nails were back in the door. Your doing?” 

He reached out to stroke Yuri’s back. Several scales were missing, the loss made more obvious by the small smears of blood everywhere they’d been pulled out. He felt freshly guilty at the sight of it, but Yuri merely rolled his shoulders and leaned just the tiniest bit in Flynn’s direction.

“I went back after Estelle went to bed that night. Those will keep faeries from crossing the threshold. Since I’m only half fae, iron doesn’t really affect me.” 

“You didn’t do it while Judith was there. Does that mean she’s a fairy of some kind?”

“Ask her. By the way, if you’re thinking faeries are happy little children’s tales, you’d better think again. Zagi is fae, and he’s bad news.”

“Who is he? I heard you say something about him escaping. Is he a criminal?”

“Not exactly.” Yuri shifted uncomfortably. “He’s a red cap. You heard of those?”

“I’ve heard of red cap mushrooms.”

“Little bit of a difference, Flynn. Red caps are known for their habit of dying their hats with the blood of their victims. They murder for fun. They used to hunt humans but, from what I’ve heard, the Courts—the Faerie Courts, the Seelie and Unseelie—put a stop to that a while back when it started to become too dangerous to interact with humans.”

“But Zagi kept killing people.”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean, ‘yes and no?’ He either stopped or….” A horrible thought occurred to Flynn. “We’re not using the same definition of ‘people,’ are we?” Appalled, he pulled his hand back as Yuri sat up to face him and shrugged.

“I’m not like you. I can’t fit in the way you do. Half-breeds like me are fair game for the red caps. A lot of us live on the fringes of society. No one would miss us if we disappeared.”

“How can you say that? I—“

“You won’t win this argument.” Yuri’s voice was cold as he glared across the small divide between them. “We both know you forgot all about me until you came back. If Zagi had managed to kill me, you wouldn’t have given my absence a second thought.”

Flynn didn’t know what to say to that. ‘I was seven and my dad died’ didn’t really seem to cut it. Yuri had remembered Flynn after all those years despite having his own set of considerably more unusual problems and no one to turn to for help.

“You’re right,” Flynn said at last. “I’m sorry.”

Though he’d looked like he’d been gearing up for a fight, some of the tension left Yuri’s shoulders at that and he waved off the apology.

“Why don’t we go back to your place? Zagi’s sort of a long story, and I need to wash up.”

Flynn watched as Yuri stood and dressed, hiding himself beneath a worn out old t-shirt. He remembered how seven-year-old Yuri had been so excited to have someone to play with. He’d been cheerful and friendly and tough. That strength of his must have been put to the test over the years. What would it be like to not be able to trust people, to be afraid to let a lover see all of you? Flynn couldn’t pity him—he knew Yuri wouldn’t want that—but he ached for him, hated that he had to go through what he did. Hopefully, his plans to move down to the coast would help to alleviate some of the loneliness Yuri must feel. They’d already made a start.

Rather than climbing back down, Yuri dove off the side of the cliff, disappearing beneath the crashing waves. When he surfaced, he beckoned for Flynn to follow him, laughing. Grinning in response, heart light with the thought that Yuri trusted him, that he was someone important to Yuri, Flynn leapt into the sea. It stung his back like fire and he was reminded that Yuri had definitely left his mark. Flynn propelled himself through the water until he reached Yuri and threw his arms around him to kiss him. Yuri pushed him off, shaking his head even though he was smiling, and they swam back around to the cove together.

They’d forgotten the crepe pan on the beach. Yuri scooped it up as they passed, studying it in the moonlight, an odd smile playing across his lips. He followed Flynn quietly up the path to the beach house.

Inside, they found Estelle dozing on the couch, a book open on her lap. Flynn showed Yuri the shower, then pulled off his shirt and hastily dried off to pick up Estelle and carry her to bed. She stirred in his arms and smiled sleepily.

“How did your talk go?”

“Very well,” he said softly. She giggled a little and tapped his shoulder next to where Yuri had marked him. He blushed. He’d forgotten about the bite.

“Be sure you take proper care of that.”

“I will.” He laid her down on the bed and tucked her in. As he started to leave, she reached out and laid the tips of her fingers lightly on his arm.

“You look happy.”

He smiled at her and turned off the lights as he left.

He’d dropped his shirt on the floor outside the bathroom and paused to pick it up on his way to his room. He felt sweat and seawater coating him like a second skin and the sound of the shower called to him. Grabbing a change of clothes for himself and one for Yuri, he went to knock on the bathroom door.

“It’s me. I brought some fresh clothes for you.”

“Come in.”

The door didn’t have a lock and the tub had no curtain for privacy, so when Flynn stepped inside, the only cover Yuri had was the drenched tendrils of his hair and the thin clouds of steam drifting in the air. He stood under the shower, face tilted up into the water as he ran a bar of soap over his arms and chest. His scales flashed in the light, mirror bright under the water that ran down his back.

“You waiting for an invitation, or something?”

“Sorry. I…um….” _Was_ that an invitation?

“You didn’t used to apologize so much.”

 _You didn’t used to fluster me like this_ , Flynn thought. “I was just going to grab a shower once you’re done.”

Arching a brow, Yuri looked back over his shoulder. “You’re really not going to join me? Quicker this way, and you won’t have to worry about me running off while you’re washing up.”

“Were you planning to?”

“Nah. Just thought you looked like you needed an excuse.” He grinned and went back to washing, leaving Flynn to wonder why he was still standing there, holding two sets of clothes and staring. He dropped the clothes, shed his trunks, and hopped into the tub.

As soon as his feet hit the porcelain, Yuri stepped backwards into him, pressing his back against Flynn’s chest and rolling his shoulders. He looked from side to side as Flynn’s arms came up around him.

“You’re bigger than me.”

“We’re the same height.” Flynn ducked his head to kiss the crook of Yuri’s neck.

“Broader, then.”

“Not by much. Does it matter?”

“No. Just remembering. You used to be tiny.”

“I wasn’t tiny. And who was it that always won when we fought?”

Yuri laughed softly. “Some things don’t change, I guess.” 

There had been something melancholic in his laugh a moment ago, something that made Flynn think he wasn’t talking about which of them was stronger. He wasn’t sure what to do with that thought and didn’t really think Yuri would explain if he asked, so he just hugged him tighter, fingers lightly rubbing circles on Yuri’s skin.

“Don’t you think this is a weird time to be remembering when we were kids?”

“Depends on what you’re remembering.” He turned in Flynn’s arms, let his hands wander low on that broad, tanned back. “I want a new memory.”

All it took was a tilt of the chin and their mouths came together. The kiss was hungry, even so soon after their tryst in the cavern. Wandering hands and quiet moans soon had both of them aroused but, as Yuri reached between them to help things along, Flynn broke the kiss.

“Estelle’s sleeping.”

“Better keep my mouth occupied, then.” The words were rushed out all in one breath before Yuri caught Flynn’s lips with his.

Flynn could no sooner have broken away from him again than he could have plucked the moon from the sky. He pushed Yuri against the shower wall, a hand in his hair to keep the back of his skull from hitting the tiles as Flynn kissed him with all the pent up emotion of his frustration at Yuri’s mysteriousness, his anger at the situation with Adrien, and the tempest of attraction and desire and amazement that had swept him up when Yuri appeared so unexpectedly back in his life. He wanted this more than he’d wanted anything in a long, long time.

Moaning into the kiss, he gripped Yuri’s shoulder as soap-slick fingers ran the length of both their erections, rubbing them together, and the pleasure of it was too much and not enough. Flynn thrust his hips against Yuri, seeking more heat, more contact. His grip on Yuri’s shoulder slipped and he dug fingers into his shoulder blade, clawing and making Yuri gasp and writhe, his hand twitching in the midst of teasing strokes.

Distantly, Flynn noticed that they were getting louder; that breaths had turned to gasps then moans and cries muted only by the fervor of the kiss. He couldn’t focus long enough to remember why that was important and soon gave up caring.

“Yuri…!” 

He called his name again and again, the syllables broken and muddled by the play of lips and tongues and teeth. He was close to climax, could feel it peaking as if he was riding a wave. He rode the crest as long as he could before Yuri’s hand took him over the edge and he was pulled under by the ecstasy of release. As he surfaced, coming to his senses, he let the languor drag him down to sit beneath a shower that felt tepid after the heat that had risen in him. Pulling Yuri along into his lap, he trailed his fingers lazily over scales as Yuri stroked himself to orgasm, ignoring the pain when Yuri sank his teeth into the flesh above Flynn’s collarbone to muffle himself.

They were silent for a while as their heartbeats slowed and calmed. Yuri was the first to speak.

“Think we woke her?”

Oh, yeah. That was why they’d been trying to be quiet. 

“I don’t know. She was sort of expecting it to happen one way or another, anyway.” It was a flimsy excuse for being indiscreet, and he knew he was blushing. Luckily, Yuri didn’t seem to have the energy to do more than let out a short, breathy laugh.

“We should get up. I’ve still got to explain, and I’d rather be dressed for that portion of the evening.”

Unable to resist, Flynn kissed him once more, then let his hand slide down Yuri’s back and away, allowing him to get up and dry off. He watched as Yuri stepped into the borrowed shorts, admiring him and half wishing they would postpone that talk. When Yuri pulled on a shirt, Flynn stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around Yuri and relishing the feel of his warmth as it radiated through the thin fabric.

“You don’t really need the shirt, right? Since it’s just us….” He kissed the curve of Yuri’s ear.

“Yeah: you, me, and Estelle. No thanks.” He pulled away, smiling crookedly. “I don’t owe you an explanation, you know. Get dressed before I change my mind.”

Flynn obeyed, feeling like an errant teenager as he snuck back to his room, hand-in-hand with Yuri. He was grinning uncontrollably and could see that Yuri was having a hard time keeping Flynn’s buoyant mood from infecting him. As soon as the door closed behind them, Flynn had Yuri pressed up against it, hands low on Yuri’s back beneath the tee. He butted his forehead gently against Yuri’s, holding his gaze as he massaged the scales under his fingers.

“Hey.”

The look Yuri gave him was deadpan. “It’s serious time now, Flynn.” He slipped away and went to take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Maybe if you behave, I’ll play with you later.”

Still feeling a little giddy, Flynn asked hopefully: “Want a backrub while you talk?”

“…Yes.”

Smiling at the thought that he would be allowed to touch Yuri again, that he could examine and explore in a way he hadn’t been able to while he’d been mostly distracted by other, more intense sensations, Flynn switched on the lamp that sat on the bedside table. When he’d touched Yuri before, he’d noted the strange feeling of scales beneath his fingers in place of smooth skin almost distantly. It hadn’t seemed important then, with the rest of Yuri flush up against him, moaning and urging him on, warm and unmistakably human. He still wasn’t sure he quite believed it, but what other explanation was there?

Yuri had rolled over onto his stomach, stretching out on top of the covers. He sighed as Flynn began massaging his shoulders through his shirt, working his way down Yuri’s back until he reached his waist. He slipped his fingers between flesh and fabric as he started back up, but Yuri stopped him before he had exposed more than a couple inches of pale skin and scales.

“Turn out the light.”

“Why? It’s only us.”

“Turn out the light, or my shirt stays on.”

Sighing, Flynn did as he said and helped Yuri strip off the shirt. Pale moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, enough to highlight form without detail. Flynn could almost imagine the darker patches of scales were nothing more than odd birthmarks except for the fact that he could still feel their texture beneath his fingers. They felt like silk. Every now and again, he caught the edges of a few by accident, lifting them up and making Yuri shift and squirm, though he never complained. On the contrary, the sounds he made were unmistakably approving, and Flynn realized that if he didn’t get him talking soon, then neither of them were going to be doing much talking at all that night.

“Why is Zagi after you?”

Yuri sighed. “I was just getting comfortable, too.” 

The thought that he’d spoiled Yuri’s relaxation made Flynn feel more than a little guilty. It had to be the first time in years that Yuri had been comfortable shirtless with another person. Still, he needed to know what was going on. If Yuri was being stalked by some crazy fairy that the police couldn’t do anything about, then Flynn wanted to be able to step in to help. No, even if Yuri could have asked someone else, or even if he was capable of handling Zagi, Flynn still wanted to be there for him. Just because Yuri could take care of himself, didn’t mean he should have to do it alone.

“About nine years ago, Zagi showed up and tried to kill me.” Even though he’d been expecting it, the suddenness of the statement still took Flynn by surprise. “I don’t know how he found me. He was just waiting for me one night when I went back to the cave. He came at me, but I managed to cut him with the knife my mother left me. I’ve kept it on me ever since.”

“I don’t remember seeing it.” _And I thought I was pretty thorough._

Smirking, Yuri arched his back, curling his legs up and over himself until he could reach his ankle. He was apparently very flexible. He wrapped his hand around something and, in the next moment, Flynn could see that he’d drawn a small dagger from an ankle sheath that very definitely hadn’t been there a second ago. He laid himself flat again, toying with the knife.

“You wouldn’t have. The sheath is enchanted. As long as the dagger’s in it, humans can’t see or touch it.”

As soon as Flynn reached out toward the dagger, Yuri hid it away again. Sure enough, when Flynn grabbed Yuri’s ankle exactly where the sheath had been a moment before, he felt nothing but skin.

Waggling his finger, Yuri clicked his tongue admonishingly. “No touching. That dagger is special. It’s made of iron—very effective against the fae.”

“I would imagine it would be an effective deterrent against anybody, particularly if they’re worried about contracting tetanus. Tell me you’ve never cut yourself with that thing.”

“I told you, I don’t get sick. It’s pretty much the only benefit to being a half-breed.” He waved his hand, dismissing the thought. “We’re getting off-track, and if you’re finished with that backrub, I’m putting my shirt back on.”

Before Yuri could make good on his threat, Flynn leaned over him to continue the massage.

“So, I messed up his hand pretty good and ran. I didn’t really know what to do, you know? It’s not like I was prepared to have some freak show up wanting to kill me. I ended up at the beach house. I knew your grandmother had protections up and I thought maybe she’d help me.”

“Of course she would.”

“Flynn, your sweet old granny didn’t put up those protections until after you started bringing me into her house. We weren’t exactly friends.”

“Still, she wouldn’t just stand by while someone was being attacked.”

“Whatever. The point is: running to her place was about the only thing I could think to do at the time.” 

He paused to take a breath and groaned quietly as Flynn’s fingers found a knot. They were quiet for a moment as Flynn worked his fingers into stiff muscles and Yuri pushed up into his touch. He reminded Flynn of a cat, and the thought brought a smile to his face. His amusement didn’t last for long as Yuri picked up his story, voice flat in the way people sounded when they were trying to push back the emotions attached to their words.

“Zagi caught up to me before I made it to the door. I figured I was done for, but your grandmother came charging out and…I don’t even know. She banished him, or something. She never told me how she did it.”

Somehow, the idea that Grandma Moira had banished a murderous fairy was the least surprising thing Yuri had told him so far. She’d been more than a little intimidating. It wasn’t a stretch to think her low tolerance for anything she considered inexcusable behavior would extend to people outside her family.

“So that’s why you think he’s come back to get revenge on you?”

“If Judy felt she needed to warn me, then, yeah, I’d say that’s pretty much what’s going on.”

Judith again. Zagi was a fairy and an enemy; Flynn knew where things stood with Zagi. Judith was an unknown. 

“Have you known her long?”

“Long enough to know she isn’t someone to screw around with. If Judy’s worried about Zagi, so am I. Not that we can’t handle him.”

“Does she know about you?”

Yuri twisted until he could crane his neck around far enough to look up at Flynn. “If you mean: does she know what I am, then yes. Why?”

Concentrating his gaze on where his fingers were tracing patterns over Yuri’s back, Flynn shrugged. “Just wondering.”

“You don’t look like you’re ‘just wondering.’” 

He settled back down, inching closer to Flynn in what had to be an unspoken request to continue the backrub. His craving for touch would have been endearing were it not for the knowledge that he had been denied that particular comfort for so long. Flynn flattened a palm against Yuri’s back, and petted him, slow and comforting.

“I never showed her my scales,” Yuri said, abruptly.

“Oh.”

“In case you were wondering.”

Feeling suddenly and ridiculously pleased, Flynn flopped over on top of him, nuzzling Yuri’s shoulder while one hand played over the boundary between skin and scales low on his hip.

“You’re really beautiful,” he murmured.

“Whatever. You better not fall asleep on top of me.” Despite his words, he didn’t make a move to dislodge Flynn.

“Mmm.” He lay there for a minute more, basking in the closeness, in the joy of being special and trusted, and he couldn’t hold back a crooked smile when he thought of how he’d fallen so far, so quickly. He was being drug along by the force of the attraction between them into this relationship—whatever it was—but he thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad being caught in this particular undertow of feelings and desires. Either way, he was in too deep to pull himself out, even if he’d wanted to. Nothing to do but go with the flow.

Placing a quick kiss on Yuri’s shoulder blade, Flynn pushed himself up to look down at him. “Are you getting tired?”

“A little.”

“It’s pretty late. You should stay here tonight.”

“I don’t think I’m up for another round.”

Flynn smiled softly and ran a hand over Yuri’s hair. “We’ll just sleep, then. You look like you could use some rest, anyway.”

“Probably.” He rolled off the bed just long enough to pull his shirt back on while Flynn turned down the covers. When he curled up once more on the mattress, Flynn settled himself at Yuri’s back, wrapping an arm over him.

“Don’t blame me if you choke on my hair,” Yuri said. 

Beneath the scent of shampoo, Yuri smelled like the sea, and Flynn thought that no matter how many times he washed up, he probably always would. The idea made him smile, and he snuggled closer and drifted off to sleep.


	5. Wednesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the UNABRIDGED version. If you want to avoid the (poorly written) sex scene, go read the edited version on ff.net.
> 
> Yup. This whole thing started because my brain went: ‘Yuri’s mom is a mermaid. Go.’ 
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

When Flynn woke that morning, Yuri was gone. Remembering their talk from last night, he had a brief moment of panic before he noticed the smell of pancakes and calmed himself down. Yuri had probably just gotten up to cook breakfast.

He got dressed, humming to himself. Yuri must be a morning person too, to have gotten up so early. That was definitely a good thing since, in Flynn’s experience, those who weren’t morning people tended to hold an unnecessary amount of hostility towards those who were. 

As he stepped into the kitchen, Flynn froze. It was Estelle, not Yuri, who stood over the stove, pouring the last bit of pancake batter into a frying pan. A stack of them sat on a plate nearby, ready to be served. Yuri was nowhere in sight.

“Good morning. Breakfast will be ready in just a minute.”

“Have you seen Yuri?”

There must have been something in his voice that gave her pause. She turned to look at him when she answered. “Not since Monday night. Why? Did something happen?”

“I….” How was he supposed to answer that? How much could he tell her? How much was he willing to tell her? “I just thought he might be by for breakfast.”

Estelle smiled at him and turned back to the pancake. “Flynn, you know men never get back to you right away.”

“Very funny. I think Yuri and I are a little past the wait-and-see-who-calls-who-first game.”

Her movements paused almost imperceptibly. When she spoke again, her voice was as cheerful as it ever was. “I’ve never seen you get so attached to anyone so quickly.”

“Yeah. I can’t help it. It’s like…it’s just like with this place: it feels like the right fit.”

“You should go get him, see if he wants to come over for pancakes.” When Flynn hesitated, she turned back to smile at him. “Go on. There are plenty to share. I’ll keep them warm until you come back.”

It was all the encouragement he needed, and Flynn headed out the back door, hurrying down the path to the sea. He’d barely gotten his feet wet when he spotted Yuri swimming in, coming from the direction of his cave. Flynn waited for him as the water rushed and foamed around his ankles, noting that Yuri was no longer wearing the clothes he’d borrowed last night.

“You were gone when I woke up,” he said once Yuri was close enough. “Where were you?”

He shrugged and walked past Flynn up the beach. “I went back to my place.”

“Why?”

“Sorry. You haven’t earned any more questions, so I’ll be taking a pass on that one.”

“But, I thought—”

“You thought what? Don’t go getting all full of yourself just because I let my guard down a little last night.”

“’A little?’” Flynn echoed, stunned. “Last night you were—”

They were almost up to the top of the path, and Yuri lifted his head, sniffing the air. “Are those pancakes I smell?”

“Estelle made them. Listen, we need to talk. I—”

“She make enough for three?”

“Yes, but—“

“Cool. I love pancakes.” He let himself into the house as Flynn trailed behind. “Morning, Estelle.”

“Good morning. Flynn, go find Yuri some dry clothes while I set the table.”

They did as she said before taking seats in the dining room where Estelle had laid out place settings along with butter, syrup, and a plate of bacon. She carried in a platter of pancakes as Yuri watched hungrily. He ignored Flynn who was still trying to figure out what exactly had happened between them last night, since it apparently hadn’t been as important to Yuri.

It was difficult to stay annoyed through a pancake breakfast, but Flynn managed it. Yuri acted as if nothing was wrong, as if it was normal to slip away in the night rather than share a bed with a lover and then refuse to explain what had driven him away. It occurred to Flynn that maybe Yuri had left in a misguided attempt to protect him, that maybe he’d been thinking that if Zagi attacked during the night, Flynn would be safe so long as Yuri wasn’t with him. The idea was of little comfort, actually serving to make him angrier as he considered it. He could hold his own in a fight. There was no reason for Yuri to have to deal with the situation alone.

Flynn volunteered himself and Yuri to clean up afterward, mainly to create a chance to talk. Things were very definitely _not right_ , and he wanted to know why. They cleared the table together in silence. It wasn’t until they were shoulder-to-shoulder over the sink washing dishes that Flynn spoke up.

“What am I supposed to tell Estelle?” Well, he could always work up to grilling Yuri about his disappearing act.

“Nothing. She’s human, off-limits, and has nothing to do with this. No need to worry her, right?”

“I suppose. Yuri…if I hadn’t noticed…” he ghosted a hand over Yuri’s back, not quite willing to say anything about it out loud while Estelle was awake, “…would you have told me?”

“Nope.” His answer was entirely too immediate. It was matter-of-fact and without emotion. It was the truth.

“Never?”

“Never isn’t really a very long time for something like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means what it means.” He handed back the dish Flynn had passed him. “You missed a spot on this one.”

Upset, Flynn scrubbed at the plate with more force than was really necessary. Apparently, Yuri had only trusted him with his secret because he’d had no other choice. He wasn’t even acting like what had happened between them had changed things. As soon as Yuri’s hands were once again occupied with drying, Flynn grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him. When he pulled back, Yuri cocked his head to the side, arching a brow.

“Something I said?”

“How do you feel about me?”

“Back to that again? I’ll refer you to my previous answer.”

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I.” Yuri matched his glare. He twisted out of Flynn’s grip and went back to drying. “If you really want to know, figure it out for yourself.” 

It was a challenge, not an invitation. Flynn busied his hands with the remainder of the dishes, trying not to think about warm skin and smooth scales, soft hair and sharp teeth, moans and cries and obscenities. He wanted Yuri more than ever, but the distance between them was a warped thing that he didn’t have the first clue how to bridge.

They finished up without speaking and joined Estelle in the living room.

“What were your plans for today?” Flynn asked her.

“You’re meeting with the attorney this morning again, right? I think I’ll head down to the beach while you do that. We can meet up for lunch afterward. You too, Yuri, and Judith, if she wants to join us.”

“Thanks. She’ll probably be out at the beach today. You should ask her if you see her.”

“I will.” She hopped up from her seat on the couch and moved to stand in front of Flynn. “I’m going on out. I hope your meeting goes well. Remember what I told you, and do a little thinking with this, too.” Laying a hand over his heart, she smiled up at him until Flynn returned the smile. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before grabbing up her beach bag on the way out the door.

Left alone with Yuri, Flynn shifted restlessly. “Don’t you have work?” he asked.

“Took a couple days off. I’ll tag along with you. I’ve got something to do in town.”

“What, all of a sudden you want to spend time with me?”

Yuri gave him an odd look. “Never stopped wanting to, Flynn. You’re the one being weird about it.”

“I am _not_ the weird one here!”

“Was that a shot about my parents?”

“What? No! No, I—”

“Joking, Flynn.”

“Jerk.”

Yuri just smirked at him. They weren’t okay, not really, but then, they’d sort of rushed into all of this. Maybe all Yuri needed was time to adjust to having someone who knew about him. Maybe with a little patience on Flynn’s part and some more nights like the last one, Yuri would quit being so cagey about what was happening between them.

“Give me a minute to get changed and we’ll go.” He left Yuri there and went to his room to switch out shorts and t-shirt for jeans and a button-down. Black was going to be a mistake in the heat, but he’d only brought two nice shirts and hadn’t had a chance to wash the other. He left the top button undone, stepped into his shoes, and headed back into the living room.

“Let’s go.”

As they walked down toward town, Flynn searched for a topic that wouldn’t lead back to their relationship. He ended up asking Yuri what sort of police presence Driftwood Cove had.

“Small. There’s just Chief LeBlanc and his Tweedle goon squad, Adecor and Boccos. They used to come down hard on me before I got a job and started keeping off their radar.”

“What were you doing that had the police after you?”

“A guy’s gotta eat, and when you don’t have any income, the options available in that department are sort of limited.”

He’d been stealing to keep himself fed? “What about your mother?”

Yuri shrugged. “Disappeared less than a year after you left.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t know. Caught or killed by a fisherman, maybe. She could’ve even gone back to Faerie, for all I know.”

“You never tried to look for her?”

“Couldn’t. I can’t leave this area. If I’m away from the water more than half a day I start feeling pretty messed up until I can go take a soak. Has to be this water, too. The water I was born in, or something. I told you, this isn’t a fairy tale: it’s a pain in the ass.”

“I’m sorry.” It had never occurred to Flynn that Yuri still lived at the beach because he had no choice in the matter.

“That isn’t something you should apologize for. Besides, genetics or not, I love it here. It would be nice to see more of the world, but…. Hey, tell me what it’s like where you live.”

Happy to change the subject, Flynn described the great, empty middle of nowhere his mother had moved them to after his dad had died. It was farm country, pretty boring, with a view of mountains practically half a world away and visible only because of how incredibly flat the land was for miles and miles around. Hot in summer, icy in winter. He tried to describe a blizzard for Yuri, who had never seen snow.

The conversation took them all the way down to Main Street as Flynn lapsed into stories about the people back home and the schools he’d gone to. He talked about meeting Estelle and getting to know her and about how much he had missed the ocean. He avoided talking about his family, about how his mother had been there physically even as she grew emotionally more distant in the years after her husband had died. After what Yuri had told him about Grandma Moira, he was pretty sure she hadn’t told Yuri about Flynn’s dad being killed, and Flynn wasn’t sure he wanted to bring it up. He would tell Yuri eventually, but it was a grim subject and not one he was willing to broach right before speaking with the attorney about his grandmother’s property.

They arrived at the office in the next minute, anyway, and it was time to part company. Flynn watched as Yuri continued along the way they’d been headed. He had been all the way down the little side street when he’d explored the town with Estelle, and could remember nothing much of interest. It made him wonder if the something Yuri had to do in town was nothing more than keep an eye on him. He’d said Estelle was safe, that she had nothing to do with any of this, but Flynn was the grandson of the human woman who had banished a bloodthirsty fairy. That sort of thing seemed like it might be a source of wounded pride. Suddenly thinking that there might be more to the timing of Zagi’s return than Yuri had let on, Flynn hurried into the office, a whole new set of questions buzzing in his mind.

The meeting went smoothly. Flynn had decided to keep the property and was provided with all the relevant forms to sign as the attorney went on about costs and taxes and payments which Flynn would be required to begin making in five months once his grandmother’s provision ran out. It meant he had a lot of work to do over the rest of his summer break to get the house ready for guests and make sure there would be someone on hand for check in, maintenance, and any other problems that might crop up. It would be nice to hire a chef eventually, but that was something Flynn felt could wait until the place was established. Simply renting out the beach house would be fine for the time being. He left with a folder full of papers and a head full of plans and ideas and lists of things that needed to be done.

He was so focused on working out what absolutely needed to happen before he could rent out the house, that it took him a minute to realize that Yuri was standing across the street, drinking one of those oversweet iced coffee concoctions and talking with Adrien. Taking a deep breath, he told himself that maybe Yuri just wanted to stay friends with Adrien and, if that was the case, he couldn’t be one of those controlling creeps who told their partners who they could or couldn’t hang out with…but then Adrien was trying to put an arm around Yuri’s back, and Yuri was trying to keep just out of reach, and Flynn found himself running across the road to intervene.

Adrien spotted him first and ducked behind Yuri who twisted to the side, putting his back against the wall of a building.

“Dude, call off your dog.” His nose was still swollen from where Judith had punched him and it lent an annoyingly nasal tone to his voice.

“Nope. I told you to back off for a few days. You’re the one who went and picked a fight. Clean up your own mess.”

Stepping between them, Flynn glared at Adrien. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Yuri. You ready to go?”

“Sure.” He let Flynn take his hand and lead him away, though he turned back to Adrien, holding up his drink and called: “Thanks for the coffee.”

They were almost back to Main Street when Yuri pulled his hand free and stepped up to walk beside Flynn.

“Are you friends with him?” Flynn demanded.

“Friendship isn’t really what either of us gets out of our association.”

“Good. If he doesn’t mean anything to you, then I won’t feel bad for telling you to stay away from him.”

“Tell me all you like, it doesn’t mean I’m going to take orders from you.”

“Seriously, Yuri, he’s…. The way he talked about you…. Just keep away from him, okay?”

“Or what?” Yuri stopped where his stood, arms crossed over his chest. “What are you going to do if I don’t want to listen?”

For a moment, Flynn just stared at him before hanging his head with a sigh. “Nothing. There’s nothing I can do.” He started walking again and Yuri fell into step next to him.

“Damn right there’s not,” he said, but Flynn could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He tried to content himself with the hope that Yuri would eventually come around and cut Adrien out of his life.

They were quiet for a few blocks until they came across an access path leading from Main Street directly down to the beach. The sight of the ocean perked both of them up a bit, and Yuri jerked his head toward the path.

“Let’s cut through and see if we can find Estelle. I was promised lunch.”

“You’ll probably have to make lunch, since you don’t trust me to do it.”

“It’s less a matter of not trusting you, and more a matter of _knowing_ you’ll screw it up. Do you even have taste buds? Estelle told me about the cake you made her.”

“That was a fluke!”

“You keep thinking that, and you’ll never be allowed to cook unsupervised.”

As soon as Yuri’s feet hit sand, he took off running for the water, leaving Flynn behind to grumble as he stripped off his shoes and socks. He heard Yuri whoop, and looked up to see him chest deep in the ocean, soaked from the wave that had just crashed over him. Flynn kept to the edge of the surf, curling his toes in the sand as he walked along, searching for Estelle’s unmistakable bubblegum bob.

They made their way up the beach walking roughly parallel, though every now and again Yuri would be buffeted by a swell and stagger a step or two toward shore or disappear for a moment beneath a wave. Flynn snuck glances at him every now and again. He didn’t look like someone bitter about his fate. He looked happy.

Before they knew it, they had reached the cliff that separated the public beach from the small cove behind the beach house. Neither of them had seen Estelle. Yuri had been keeping an eye out for Judith as well, but hadn’t spotted her. Thinking that maybe Estelle had gone back in to start lunch, they left the sand and surf behind and took the access path up to the road leading to the house.

As they reached the gravel driveway, Flynn realized that things weren’t quite right. There was something on the top step of the porch: a small, oddly shaped object. Another one sat at the bottom of the steps, and there was another one in the grass a few feet away. In fact, there was a whole trail of them leading off into the overgrown bushes on the far side from town. Flynn was reaching to pick one of the little things up before he realized that they were Yuri’s driftwood animals. Their heads had been broken off.

Yuri had recognized them a moment earlier. When Flynn turned to show him, Yuri’s expression held no confusion over how they got out of his cave or what they were doing on Flynn’s doorstep.

“Zagi.”

“He was here?” The implications of that sunk in and Flynn charged up the steps, practically knocking the door down in his rush to get inside.

“Estelle? Estelle!” He searched every room of the house, even going so far as to check the closets and the pantry. She had to be there. Dread filled him as he called her name again and again and heard nothing in response. He ran out the back door, thinking that maybe she had gone down to the cove. The beach was deserted. He stared down at the empty stretch of sand in disbelief. Estelle was nowhere to be found.

Zagi must have taken her. He must have snatched her to use as bait or to keep Yuri from fighting back.

_Yuri. Oh, hell._

He raced back around the house to follow the trail of animals. He couldn’t remember how much of a head start Yuri had gotten. Had he come in to check for Estelle at all, or had he just taken off after Zagi as soon as Flynn was distracted? Crashing through the bushes, following the unsettling trail of headless wooden animals, he heard them before he saw them.

“—ask you again, _where is she_?” Rather than sounding afraid of the red cap come to kill him, Yuri’s voice was marked by fury.

The first Flynn heard of Zagi was his laugh, a grating cackle that made him think of mental patients and sociopaths. There was _nothing_ warm in that sound.

“I’m so glad you came to see me, Yuri. I’m so excited! Look at my hair, Yuri, look how pale it’s gotten. It’s _pink_. I’m going to open you up and dye it red again.”

There was a metallic screech—blades coming together, Flynn realized—and then he went crashing through the edge of the trees into the cliff top clearing Zagi had chosen for his revenge.

Dagger in hand, Yuri was crouched and panting, glaring at Zagi. There was a slash across his cheek, but the wound that caught Flynn’s attention was the gash in his right shoulder, pumping blood down his arm. He hurried to Yuri’s side where he paused and got his first good look at the murderous fairy.

Zagi looked disarmingly human, if a little odd. He was short, and his hair stuck out at strange angles around his head, a shock of yellow standing out against pink. One of his hands—Flynn guessed it must be the one Yuri had injured years ago—was silver. He held a blade in his normal hand. He was grinning.

“Is this him? Oh, it is, I can smell it! Pathetic little human, there is a blood debt between us!”

“You can’t touch him!” Yuri shouted.

He’d barely gotten the words out before Zagi was charging across the clearing, dagger at the ready. Yuri shoved Flynn aside and brought his own blade up to block, but he’d forgotten about Zagi’s other hand. Flynn saw the gauntlet—he couldn’t see where it fit together, but it _had_ to be a gauntlet, metal didn’t move on its own—shift to rake clawed fingertips across Yuri’s chest, drawing blood as he grabbed him by the shirt.

“I can keep a human alive for weeks, Yuri, wait and see, I’ll show you. I’ll take him apart. I’ll make you a coat from his skin.”

Yuri kicked out and Zagi dropped him to leap back out of the way.

“Flynn, get out of here.”

“Absolutely not. You’re hurt. Give me the knife. I’ll fight him.”

“Oh, yes, yes, _yes_!” 

Zagi sped towards him, faster than Flynn would have thought possible. Yuri parried with his dagger at the last second, and Zagi kicked him in the stomach before backing away to watch and laugh. Kneeling, Flynn watched in horror as blood began to seep into Yuri’s shirt where he clutched his stomach. Zagi must have had blades hidden in his shoes as well.

“I can keep you for _months_ , half-blood. Your kind takes a long time to die when you do it right. I’ll flay you by inches. I’ll carve my name in your living bones.”

Before Zagi moved to attack again, Flynn snatched the dagger out of Yuri’s hand and charged him. Knife fighting wasn’t exactly his forte, but he’d trained to deal with opponents wielding blades. His reach was better, and he knew to watch out for hidden weapons. He could win…

…or so he thought. He’d forgotten to take Zagi’s speed into account. One moment he was running straight at him, the next, Zagi was grinning at him as he came up below Flynn’s arm and struck, digging his own wickedly curved blade into Flynn’s side.

Flynn heard Yuri shout his name, heard him call for the knife. Automatically, he held it out. Yuri took it as he swept past him. Zagi was only just wrenching his blade free and Yuri collided with the red cap in a blur of white and black and red, yelling wordlessly as the little iron knife found its purchase high on Zagi’s chest.

Yuri kept running, pushing him back and down and away from Flynn, toward the edge of the cliff. He stumbled at the end and fell. Flynn shouted, reaching out, but there was nothing he could do as both of them plunged out of sight.

Gasping, he picked himself up and staggered to the edge. The cliff was much higher here than at its lowest point behind the beach house. He couldn’t see either of them at the bottom. There was nothing below him except a sheer drop into crashing waves and jagged rocks. He sank to his knees, calling Yuri’s name over and over because it was better than admitting to himself that there wouldn’t be a response. 

He couldn’t have survived that. He _had_ to have survived that, he was half mermaid, for God’s sake, what good was it if he couldn’t even swim away from a little fall? Yuri knew this coast better than anyone, he must. He had to know where it would have been safe to jump. He just hadn’t surfaced yet, or maybe he could breathe underwater…no, that was stupid. He didn’t have gills and you needed gills to breathe underwater. Flynn was positive he didn’t have gills. In just a moment, he’d swim up above the waves. He’d joke that the water was fine and Flynn should join him. Any moment now and he’d….

Flynn felt lightheaded. He looked down at his clenched fists. There was blood on his hands, bright red blood, striking against his skin, against the green, green grass….

He shook his head, trying to focus. He’d been stabbed. He was losing blood. If he passed out, he’d be useless. The first thing to do was to stop the bleeding and bandage the wound. After that, he could look for Yuri. 

Sitting back on the grass, he gingerly pulled his shirt away from the gash. Luckily, it didn’t seem like anything vital had been hit. It was a long wound across his left side, but a shallow one. He was definitely going to need stitches later.

He was just beginning to attempt to get his shirt off when Judith stepped out of the trees. Flynn hadn’t even heard her approach. It was like she’d come out of nowhere.

“Oh, my. You did get a bit torn up, didn’t you?”

“You’ve got to go look for Yuri. He fell off the cliff.”

“He’s fine.” She came to kneel next to him and began rummaging through a satchel hanging from her shoulder. “Let’s see if I’ve got anything to help patch you up.”

“How can he be fine? I saw him fall.”

“I opened a door when they went over the edge and dropped them into Faerie. You shouldn’t worry so much. It’ll give you wrinkles.” She poked the crease between his eyebrows, smiling.

“He’s really okay?” He sagged in relief when she nodded, then bolted upright, remembering that even if Yuri trusted her, that didn’t mean he should. “I want to see him.”

“You’ll have to be patient.” She pulled a familiar-looking bottle labeled ‘bay oil’ and some linen handkerchiefs out of her bag.

“That was in Grandma Moira’s medicine cabinet.”

“A smart woman, your grandmother. This is good for wounds inflicted by the fae and their weapons. I’ve pepped it up a little to speed things along.”

She cut his shirt away with a penknife as Flynn was finding it increasingly painful to lift his left arm. He managed to keep it out of the way long enough for her to pour the contents of the bottle liberally over the gash and press the handkerchiefs over the area.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything to bind it with. Can you hold that over the wound until we get you back to your house?”

“Yes.” He hissed as he stood, torn muscles straining, but the bleeding was already stopping and, when he wasn’t moving, he could tell the pain was lessening. Whatever Judith had done to his grandmother’s remedy was certainly effective.

The walk back was slow going, and he was fairly sure he would have gotten lost without Zagi’s trail of headless animals. Still, he made it on his own power and without worsening his injury. He was sure he’d seen a roll of gauze in the medicine cabinet. He’d have Judith help bandage him up, then he’d make her take him to Yuri. Flynn needed to see that he was all right with his own eyes.

“You must be very strong,” Judith commented from behind him as they reached the front steps. “I would have expected you to pass out by now.”

“The medicine is helping.” 

He opened the door and had a moment to wonder why Judith had laughed at that before he found himself faced with the choice to either sit down or collapse. He sank to his knees, barely able to keep his eyes open as Judith leaned over him.

“The medicine is why I expected you to be out cold. Don’t worry; sleep helps with the healing process. Estelle is here. She’s safe. Yuri is safe, too. You’ll see them both when you wake up.” 

She smiled down at him gently and, as much as he wanted to rail at her over the betrayal, he couldn’t fight against the drowsiness that dragged him down into sleep.

\------------------------

Flynn woke from dreams of drifting up through an azure ocean while Yuri, silvery with scales, sank into the depths, smirking as bubbles formed like tears in his eyes. The bubbles floated up, multiplying until they hid him from Flynn’s sight.

Groaning, he sat up and winced as a twinge in his side reminded him that he’d been injured trying to fight Zagi and that Yuri had….

He threw back the covers and stood. Someone had cleaned him up and bandaged him while he slept. He hoped it hadn’t been Judith. He had a few things to say to her the next time they met. Pulling on a clean shirt, he headed for the door. He felt well enough to move and he wanted to confirm Estelle and Yuri’s safety for himself. Checking his wound or getting to a hospital were secondary concerns.

Before he could even set foot into the hall, Estelle was running at him. She threw her arms around his shoulders, belatedly remembering to be careful when he staggered beneath her weight.

“Flynn, I was so worried! Are you feeling all right? How’s your side?”

“I’m okay. Where’s Yuri?”

“He’s fine, Flynn. He’s in the kitchen making dinner. Honestly, you’re the one who got thrown into the rocks! You should be worrying about yourself. Do you need to go to the hospital or anything? Judith said you’d be okay, but—”

“Rocks? Wait, you spoke to Judith?”

“Judy’s the one who brought you back here after you wiped out.” Yuri had poked his head out of the kitchen to put in his two cents. He was wearing one of Flynn’s t-shirts and had tied his hair up in a ponytail. He held a mixing bowl and was stirring vigorously with the arm that Zagi had stabbed. The cut on his face was gone.

“Wiped out. Is that what happened?” As he stared, Flynn was distantly aware that his voice had sounded a little strange. He put it down to the flood of relief that had surged through him at the sight of Yuri, alive and unharmed.

“Yeah. You need to learn to aim for the beach. Cliffs don’t make for a soft landing.”

“Right. Stupid of me.” 

He walked over to Yuri, calmly took the bowl and spoon from him to set them aside, and flung his arms around Yuri’s neck, pulling him in for a fierce kiss. Yuri seemed all too happy to go along with it, sliding a hand around to the small of Flynn’s back to hold him even closer. When they broke apart, Flynn noticed Estelle had turned her back to give them some privacy and he admitted to himself that maybe he might have been just a little too dramatic.

“Guess you’re feeling better.” Yuri’s grin was the same confident, cheerful expression Flynn was used to. He seemed completely unaffected by what had happened earlier. “Show’s over, Estelle,” he said. “You can join us again.”

Face as pink as her hair, she followed them into the kitchen where Yuri resumed mixing what he informed Flynn was to become crab cakes. Estelle was given charge of making mashed potatoes, while Flynn was assigned to set the table and find a bowl for the bag of premixed salad greens. He accepted his jobs with a little good-natured grumbling, concentrating on enjoying the warmth of the moment rather than the questions whirling through his mind. There would be time enough for questions later.

“How did your meeting go?” Estelle asked.

“We managed to wrap everything up surprisingly quickly, actually. Which reminds me, I need to book us a flight home. We’ll probably head back tomorrow.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Standing over a frying pan, waiting for the oil to heat up for his crab cakes, Yuri was the one to speak up first.

“You should have told me you were getting ready to go. I could have picked up stuff to make crepes.”

“There’s always tomorrow morning. We’ll probably have a later flight, anyway. It’s a bit of a drive back into the city.”

Yuri didn’t say anything else, so Flynn excused himself to go call the airport and order a pair of tickets.

Dinner was ready not long after and Flynn let himself be carried away on the buoyant atmosphere, questions and worries sinking to the back of his mind as they ate. Rather than the cozy quiet of the meal they’d shared only a couple of nights ago, Yuri kept the conversation going by the simple means of asking Estelle to relate a few of the more embarrassing stories she knew about Flynn. She was all too happy to satisfy Yuri’s curiosity, and Flynn spent the rest of the meal alternately protesting her version of events and laughing along with them. He loved every minute of it.

Flynn volunteered to do the dishes afterward. Soon enough, Yuri joined him. It felt like it was a given that they should be sharing the work of that simple chore. They stood close enough that their shoulders bumped with every movement, and Flynn felt a little bit silly over how happy that little bit of domesticity made him.

Estelle passed them on her way to the back door.

“I’m going down to the cove for a little while.”

Flynn glanced at Yuri, wondering if Zagi was really gone and if Estelle would be safe on her own. Yuri smiled and gave just the barest nod of his head. There was a gleam in his eyes that made it difficult for Flynn to look away.

“It’s starting to get dark, so be careful, all right? The undertow is pretty bad here.”

“I know. I just want to get my feet wet.” She smiled and left the two of them alone in the house.

As the door shut behind her, Flynn’s heart beat faster. Dinner had been wonderful, but he’d been waiting for a chance to be alone with Yuri since that kiss earlier. There were so many things he wanted to talk to him about: Zagi and Judith, his plans for the beach house, and the relationship forming between them. And after they’d talked….

“Hey.” Yuri rested a hand on Flynn’s back, startling him out of his thoughts. “We’ve got the house to ourselves. You really gonna just stand there washing dishes?” 

He twisted as Yuri edged closer and ended up backed up against the counter. Yuri smirked as he trapped Flynn there between his arms.

“My hands are still soapy.”

“The real problem here is that you’re holding them up in the air where they aren’t doing anyone any good.” His smirk broadened into a grin, revealing white, sharp teeth. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Without moving his hands from where they were braced on the counter, he leaned in to kiss Flynn. He pulled back a little, sucking on Flynn’s bottom lip, then tilted his head to bring their mouths together again. They kissed softly, deeply, touching only with a bump of chins, a brush of noses, and the back-and-forth play of lips. It was intoxicating, concentrating only on this one tiny aspect of being with Yuri. Flynn felt hyperaware of the warmth pulsing through him and radiating from Yuri; of the tingling in his lips; of the wet slipperiness of tongues; of breaths and quiet, wet smacks as they barely broke apart only to come together again, lingering on the touch of lips rather than the spaces between, tidal in the ebb and flow of the kiss.

He lowered his arms, settling them on the counter behind him, not quite trusting his weight to slippery palms, but needing something to do with his hands that wouldn’t ruin the moment. His fingers brushed Yuri’s and that one touch of skin-on-skin unrelated to the kiss was enough to break his resolve. He pulled Yuri flush against him, reaching up under his arms to feel the broad planes of his shoulder blades, the dip of his spine, the twitch of his muscles as Yuri gripped the countertop. Flynn wanted to touch him, wanted to kiss every inch of him until Yuri’s body was mapped in his memory, lithe and beautiful and never to be forgotten. 

He reached for the hem of Yuri’s shirt. It was in the way. It needed to go. 

That was what finally got Yuri to give in. He had his hands on Flynn’s wrists so quickly that, for a second, Flynn couldn’t understand why he wasn’t able to pull off Yuri’s shirt. He blinked, staring stupidly for a moment, which made Yuri roll his eyes.

“Your room.”

Flynn felt the silkiness of scales beneath his fingers and remembered Yuri’s secret, his need for caution. He let the shirt fall back over Yuri’s hips, smoothed down the fabric with strokes that maybe traveled a little lower than necessary, and kissed him again.

This time, Yuri wrapped his arms around Flynn’s shoulders, holding him close, as they staggered blindly down the hall, kissing and grasping at each other with increasing urgency. When they reached the door, Flynn pushed Yuri up against it, forgetting how to work the knob as his brain was entirely occupied with the way Yuri was currently trying to kiss him breathless.

In the end, it was Yuri who had to reach backward to open the door. Unprepared, Flynn swung into the room with it, his weight bearing down on Yuri and nearly sending them both crashing to the floor. He barely managed to stumble to the bed where, at least when they collapsed, it was onto a nice, soft surface suitable for what all this kissing was surely leading up to.

He slipped a hand under the front of Yuri’s shirt, feeling muscles clench as his fingers ghosted over Yuri’s stomach. He managed to reach far enough to tweak a nipple, causing Yuri to gasp and turn his face away from the kiss.

“Lock the door.”

Flynn groaned and settled his weight firmly down on top of Yuri, tilting his head to nibble at the long, graceful line of Yuri’s neck. He came to a spot just above Yuri’s collarbone and sucked and nipped until he was rewarded with a quiet moan and the feel of Yuri’s fingers threading through his hair, keeping him from pulling away.

“Or, you can just stay here. That works, too. Be interesting when Estelle comes back. The door isn’t even closed.”

With a sigh, Flynn butted his head lightly against Yuri’s cheek and reared back to kneel over him on the bed.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Yuri protested, smirking. “I said ‘interesting,’ not ‘bad.’ We could have continued.”

“You don’t care if Estelle finds out about you?” He hated that Yuri had to hide but, somehow, the thought of anyone else seeing the proof of his parentage didn’t sit well.

“I don’t need to take off my shirt for sex, Flynn.”

Feeling a little stupid, Flynn got up and went to shut the door. As he turned the lock, a thought occurred to him and he looked back at Yuri.

“Was last night the first time?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was last night the first time you took your shirt off to make love?” Flynn crawled back onto the bed, laying himself out on his stomach next to Yuri, propping himself up on his elbows to be able to look at him.

“’Make’—? Don’t tell me you’re a closet romantic or something.”

“Am I the only one who’s seen your back?”

“Maybe. So what?” Embarrassment apparently caused Yuri to turn a very pretty shade of pink.

Smiling, Flynn reached out and brushed a lock of hair away from Yuri’s face. “Thank you,” he said.

Yuri curled his lip, but the scornful effect was somewhat ruined by the blush spreading over his face. “You look like a little kid when you smile like that.”

“Don’t pout. It makes me happy to know I’m special to you. I l—”

“You’ve got questions about what happened today, don’t you? Better ask them before you miss your chance.”

A little put off by the abrupt change of subject, Flynn frowned at Yuri who had tucked his hands behind his head and was staring at the ceiling. He did have questions, though, and so took a moment to organize his thoughts and work out where to get started.

“What happened to Zagi?”

Yuri smiled grimly. “He won’t be a problem anymore. Judy sent us straight into a meeting of the Courts. They smelled your blood on Zagi the moment he arrived and were not happy that he’d broken the rules. Faerie justice is _not_ pretty.”

“So, they punished him—”

“That’s an understatement.”

“—and then sent you back?”

“They didn’t send me back, they just let me go. As long as you keep your mouth shut about all this, they’ll never think twice about me.”

“That means you’re safe, then. Good.” He reached out and smacked the top of Yuri’s head.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Scaring me. No more impromptu cliff diving, agreed?”

“Whatever. Don’t see me smacking you for that hit you took.”

“Speaking of that, I was wondering: did you know Zagi would be after me?”

Yuri’s mouth twisted. “I had a hunch, but I wasn’t sure. Didn’t want to worry you if it turned out to be nothing.”

Flynn swatted him again. “That was for hiding things from me,” he said before Yuri could protest. 

“You were cuter when you were seven.”

“Just be thankful I’m not really angry at you. Now, how did Zagi find out about me?”

“It wasn’t my fault, so don’t hit me again. I’m pretty sure it was your grandmother. I told you she got rid of Zagi the first time he came after me, right? Well, just before she did that, she said something really weird to me.” He turned his head to be able to meet Flynn’s eyes easier.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

“You saved my life. Of _course_ I remember.”

“No need to sound so offended. It was a valid question. Anyway, she was waiting for us at the top of the path when we went back up to the house. She said the same thing to me when she saved my life that she’d said that night: ‘There is a blood-debt between us. Your life for my grandson’s.’”

For a minute, Flynn mulled that over. He didn’t remember having heard his grandmother say that, but he didn’t doubt Yuri’s account. However, something about the memory of that night bothered him.

“She saved your life because you saved mine.”

“She saved my life and endangered yours. Zagi wouldn’t have known about you if she hadn’t said anything.”

“Maybe…maybe she knew.” The more Flynn thought about that, the more sense it made. The idea that Grandma Moira might have had glimpses into the future didn’t seem nearly as absurd as it would have only days earlier. “She _was_ waiting for us that night, wasn’t she? Like she’d known. Maybe she knew Zagi would come back and that I’d need your help. Maybe it was a warning.”

Yuri ran a hand over his face. “Ugh. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“See? She did like you. If she’d just let Zagi kill you, he wouldn’t have had any reason to want revenge on me.”

“I am not going to spend the evening debating predestination with you.”

“Hmmm. Does that mean you believe certain events are fated to happen?”

“Not talking about this.”

Smiling, Flynn leaned over him. “It feels like we were meant to meet again, don’t you think?”

For a moment, Yuri’s face was blank, but then he smirked. “I think maybe there’s something else we’re meant to be doing right now.” 

Before Flynn knew what was happening, Yuri had launched himself upwards, rolling the both of them over until he was pinning Flynn to the bed. Deciding that talking could wait until later or tomorrow or whenever, Flynn pulled him down for a kiss. It was wet and sloppy and had none of the seductive finesse of the kisses they’d shared in the kitchen, but it was wonderful anyway. Yuri was rocking on top of him in rhythm with the smack of lips and slide of tongues, and he’d curled his hands around Flynn’s shoulders.

Realizing that he could finally get Yuri out of his shirt, Flynn pulled at the offending fabric and stripped it off, tossing it away as Yuri dove back into the kiss. Flynn ran his fingers lightly, teasingly, over the scales until Yuri huffed and pushed up into the touch. The wordless demand drew a breathy laugh from Flynn and he complied with Yuri’s wishes, stroking and rubbing and touching all across his back.

He was still trying to be careful, but when Yuri shifted his attention and bit down on Flynn’s neck, he gasped and clawed, nails finding purchase in the edges of scales, causing Yuri to throw back his head and thrust his hips forward against Flynn’s. The friction of the contact shot up Flynn’s spine and he arched his back, crying out as the sudden movement set off a painful twinge in his side.

Immediately, Yuri pulled back to stare down at him, storm cloud eyes glittering, even in the wan light. He was flushed and breathing a little heavily, and Flynn gazed at him, captivated.

“Is your side still messed up?”

“What? Oh. I’d forgotten. Whatever Judith gave me was doing wonders for the pain until just now. I probably need stitches.”

“You did. I stitched you up.”

Not sure if he should be impressed or dismayed, Flynn arched a brow. “One more skill you picked up living on your own?”

“Well, I can’t exactly go to a hospital, can I? They’d ship me off to be dissected.” He stared at Flynn for a moment, before reaching for the hem of his shirt. “Let me see.”

“I’m all right.” _Probably_ , he thought as Yuri tugged off his shirt. His side felt tight but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it should have and he didn’t see any blood leaking through the bandages. It seemed the wound was still closed.

“You don’t still want to continue, do you?” As he probed Flynn’s side with careful fingers, Yuri’s expression was caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

“Please.” He pulled Yuri’s mouth down onto his, feeling him laugh into the kiss.

“I’ll be gentle,” Yuri murmured against his lips. His eyes sparkled with wicked humor.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Shut up.” He slapped the bandages over Flynn’s wound, causing him to wince.

“What was that for?”

“Just testing. Judy may be a whiz with potions, but I want to be sure you aren’t going to pass out on me.”

“Well, maybe if you stop stalling and give me something to stay awake for—”

He broke off as Yuri dropped down on top of him, pressing kisses underneath his chin, trailing his tongue down Flynn’s neck, and nipping lightly around the hollow of his throat. Flynn shivered as the trail of warmth left by Yuri’s attentions cooled rapidly. He ran his fingers through tangled black hair and squirmed as Yuri peppered his chest with bite marks.

His side still felt a little sore, but not enough to call things off when everything was going so well. Every now and again, he touched it reflexively, double-checking to be sure the stitches held and he wasn’t bleeding.

As he brushed his fingers over the bandage for the fifth or sixth time, Yuri sighed and pulled his mouth away from where he had been lingering oh so very low on Flynn’s stomach.

“We should stop.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Flynn; maybe because you got sliced open today and you’re still healing?”

Sitting up, Flynn reached out and tangled a hand in Yuri’s hair, pulling him close to kiss him.

“I don’t want to stop,” he murmured against Yuri’s lips as they broke apart.

“You think I do? It’s a bad idea to keep going. Tearing out your stitches and bleeding all over the place isn’t sexy.”

“We can’t stop right in the middle.” He rubbed his knuckles lightly over the bulge in Yuri’s shorts, enjoying the arch of Yuri’s neck as the touch made him roll his head back, sucking in a deep breath.

“You’re going to regret this.”

“It’s worth the risk. Turn around and get undressed.”

“Who died and put you in charge?” Yuri grumbled, doing as Flynn said anyway.

Flynn shed his own shorts, tossing them off the bed as he scooted closer to Yuri until he was pressed right up behind him. He parted the curtain of Yuri’s hair, sweeping it over either shoulder and out of the way. Running his hands over Yuri’s shoulders and down his sides, he skirted the expanse of scales until he reached Yuri’s waist where he rubbed all the way up Yuri’s back, palms pressed flat, fingers spread and catching on scales.

Yuri gasped and arched his back at the suddenness of the gesture and Flynn smiled to himself. He was learning how to touch Yuri, and the knowledge that he was the only one who could be this intimate with him was intoxicating. He kissed the nape of Yuri’s neck where skin gave way to scales, and slipped his hands around Yuri’s waist, reaching for his cock.

He stroked him from behind, nuzzling and kissing every inch of Yuri’s back that he could reach. Carefully, he bit lightly at the very edge of the scales near the top of Yuri’s shoulder, earning a shudder that shook the entirety of Yuri’s body and passed to Flynn where his own erection was pressed up against Yuri’s back.

Together, they rocked and moaned as Flynn tried to fill the distance that had grown between them with kisses and touches and sensations. Yuri was so careful with words, so closed off despite his honesty. Actions would have to suit where words couldn’t.

Yuri pulled one of Flynn’s hands up and away, bringing it to his mouth where he kissed the back of Flynn’s wrist, hand, and each finger. He licked the inside of Flynn’s wrist, tickling, and placed a lingering kiss in his palm, before spreading Flynn’s fingers with his own, licking up their lengths, All the while, he moaned as Flynn’s other hand continued stroking him, building the heat and pressure until Yuri reached his limit and his hips jerked forward at the moment of release. He threw back his shoulders, bumping Flynn’s nose. 

Thankful that he hadn’t been caught in mid-bite, Flynn made a mental note to be careful if they tried this again.

Sighing, Yuri sagged into Flynn’s arms. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“I’d be happier if I really could see you. Can I turn on the light?”

“No.”

“The door is locked and the curtains are closed. It’s just us.” He dragged his nails lightly up and down Yuri’s sides. “Please?”

“…Just the bedside lamp.”

Grinning, thrilled with the small victory, Flynn ducked his head to kiss Yuri’s cheek.

The light from the small lamp was soft and golden, burnishing Yuri’s scales like the storm lantern in the cavern had done. Watching him as he fumbled through the pockets of his shorts, Flynn had the sudden urge to say something wildly romantic, but found that all the sonnets and poems and grand soliloquies he had studied in his literature classes had dribbled right out of his mind. His brain kept referring him to the word “quixotic” and, while that certainly described his sudden inclination towards poetic expression, it wasn’t really any help. In the end, he pushed the thought away and pulled Yuri down on top of him.

“What are you looking for?”

“Not looking for; found.” He held up the little bottle of lube they’d used the night before. “Wasn’t sure you’d have something here.”

He was right: Flynn hadn’t brought anything like that with him, and he’d just been wondering how they were going to continue. He smiled at Yuri who grinned back like his foresight and Flynn’s lack of proper preparations was an old joke between them. It wasn’t long before they were kissing once again. They explored each other’s bodies with palms and fingertips rather than lips and tongues. Yuri’s fingers tickled through the taut fabric wrapped around Flynn’s torso, each touch carried along on the warp and weft of the gauze so that every press of his hand was an embrace.

Yuri reared back above him and snatched up the lube he’d tossed aside a minute earlier. He squeezed out a generous portion onto his fingers but, instead of readying Flynn, he spread his own legs further apart over the blonde and reached behind himself.

“I’d sort of planned on topping tonight, but since you’re laid up, I guess I can let you take it easy.”

“I’m not an invalid.” The statement lost some of its heat as Flynn watched Yuri swaying above him, biting his lip as he worked his fingers inside himself. His hair swung forward, brushing over Flynn’s chest when Yuri bent low enough. His eyes were half-lidded and dark, pupils nearly overtaking the gray.

Flynn swallowed. “I can do that for you,” he said weakly. His hands were fisted white-knuckled in the sheets, waiting for permission to touch. This was Yuri’s show.

“Hell no. You take too long.” 

He braced himself against the mattress and kissed Flynn deeply, moaning into his mouth as he rocked back and forth between tongue and fingers. Flynn started to sit up when Yuri pulled away, but was stopped with a look and sank back against the pillows. He was glad he did when Yuri trailed a fingernail up the length of Flynn’s cock. He was already hard, and the feather soft touch was enough to make him groan and shudder. His hips twitched reflexively. He wanted Yuri, wanted to be inside him, to move in him and make him moan and shout. The slick fingers stroking him were maddening and wonderful and nowhere near enough.

Thankfully, Yuri didn’t tease long. He had taken much less time to ready himself than Flynn had. Before Flynn could even think to ask if he was really ready, Yuri was already taking him in.

He was tight, so tight, and hot and slick and _amazing_ , and he groaned as he lowered himself. Flynn had half a second to start to speak, to try and ask Yuri if he was okay, to raise a hand to touch his cheek, and then Yuri was moving, riding him and gasping and swearing. His hands were on Flynn’s chest, nails scratching his skin and catching on the edge of the bandage. Flynn reached up to hold his hips, to steady him or urge him on. Harder, faster, yes, more, please, oh god yes.

Whatever Yuri had said earlier about being gentle must have just been joking after all. He set a furious rhythm, crying out and cursing, driving himself down a little harder each time. He had Flynn moaning too, the pace nearly too much, too rough. Flynn swore and called Yuri’s name and dug fingers into his sides.

He knew the moment he touched the right spot in Yuri, knew it by the way Yuri arched his back and _moaned_ , saw it in the way he slowed down, pushing himself deliberately onto Flynn’s cock and shivering as he brushed something deep inside. He built up the pace again gradually, panting, no longer screaming obscenities, but no less loud for it. 

Unable to hold back, Flynn braced himself against the bed and thrust up into Yuri. They came together harder and faster, Yuri crying out between gasps and Flynn calling his name over and over again, hoping Yuri heard the praises and pleas in between that he left unvoiced.

Gradually, everything drained away except for the two of them, rushing together and receding and back again with a roar. Flynn felt the ocean in the surge of the blood in his veins, the rise and fall of his hips. He heard it in the harshness of their breathing, tasted it in the salt of skin and sweat. He let go, let himself be dragged under and carried along by the tide until the last when the sea left him, coursing through him into Yuri—beautiful, elemental Yuri—who stroked himself to climax as Flynn sank into the mattress, growing soft inside him.

Yuri collapsed on top of him, and Flynn draped an arm over his shoulders and rubbed small circles over Yuri’s back with trembling fingertips. He groaned when Yuri playfully tweaked one of his nipples and received a brief laugh and a brush of lips against his jaw line in response.

“Worn out already?”

“It’s been something of a long day.” He toyed with a lock of Yuri’s sweat-dampened hair. “I need a shower. Care to join me?”

“Think I’ll stay here for a minute. You go ahead.”

He didn’t even move as Flynn tried to get up, just let himself be rolled to the side where he sprawled limply on the covers. Flynn left the door to the master bath ajar in invitation, just in case Yuri changed his mind.

Standing on the cool, tile floor, he shivered and unwound the bandage to examine his wound. Lovemaking didn’t seem to have done it any harm. Yuri’s stitches were neat and secure. He ran his fingers along the sides of the cut, testing for soreness or signs of infection. Everything seemed better than he would have expected. Judith’s little knock out potion must have been doing its job. 

He turned on the shower and washed away the messy traces of sex, prodding love bites as he found them and smiling a little to think he’d marked Yuri in kind. When he finished, he dried off and secured the towel around his waist. Yuri had probably dozed off. He’d have to wake him up and get him into the shower to clean up before they could both get some sleep. A cloud of steam billowed out into the room as he opened the door and stepped back into the bedroom.

“Yuri?”

The bed was empty. Looking around, Flynn noticed that Yuri’s clothes were missing as well. The door was still locked, but the curtains were swaying in the breeze from the open window. When he checked outside, Flynn saw no trace of Yuri. He’d vanished just as surely as when he’d gone over the cliff that afternoon.

With a sigh, Flynn dropped heavily onto the edge of the bed. 

_Time_ , he thought. _I just have to give him time._

“It’ll be fine.” He stripped off the soiled comforter and hung his towel over the back of a chair before slipping beneath the sheet. “Everything will work out.” 

He smiled a little as he drifted off to sleep.


	6. Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the regular chapters, and it’s pretty short comparatively. There’s an epilogue to follow which will be told from Yuri’s POV to fill in some of the gaps that could only be explained from his headspace.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

The next morning, Flynn and Estelle rose early to pack. They finished off the last of the eggs in the fridge for breakfast. Yuri had used up most of the other perishable items in the fridge the night before. They washed the dishes and straightened the rest of the house. Flynn sent the comforter through the wash and tried not to peer out the back window too often, hoping for any sign of Yuri.

By the time they had everything packed and ready to be loaded and the comforter was in the dryer, Flynn was beginning to think Yuri might not be stopping by. He was a little disappointed, but put his absence down to early hours at work and decided to stop by briefly between packing the car and leaving for the city. It was a little odd, since Yuri had said he’d taken a couple days off, but maybe one of the other lifeguards hadn’t been able to fill in the shift.

As Flynn carried his suitcase down the front steps, he was suddenly struck by a sense of déjà vu. He could remember having done much the same thing when he was seven while Yuri stood off to the side, watching sadly. Flynn had put his suitcase in the car and gone over to talk to him. He’d said….

His eyes went wide as he remembered. “Oh, _fuck_.” 

Fourteen years ago he had told Yuri he’d be back the next summer. He’d _promised_. He couldn’t have known that his dad would be killed and his life turned upside-down. Yuri couldn’t have known that either. He’d never known, no one had ever told him. All he knew was that Flynn had lied.

Estelle was tugging fretfully on his arm. “Flynn what’s wrong? What happened?”

“Sorry, I just remembered something really important. Can you finish packing the car? I need to find Yuri.”

“Of course.” 

She tried to take his suitcase, but he loaded it himself, feeling bad for leaving her to do the rest of the work while he ran off to deal with an issue from fourteen years ago that he hadn’t even realized had been festering. Suddenly, Yuri’s disappearing act made sense. If he’d been carrying that around for all these years, if it bothered him so much that he wouldn’t lie to Flynn even now, it must weigh heavily on him. That one broken promise had overshadowed all their conversations. Yuri didn’t trust him.

Praying that he was right about why Yuri hadn’t come to say goodbye, Flynn raced along the path to the public beach. There was a stranger sitting in Yuri’s usual place atop the lifeguard tower. He didn’t know where Yuri was, and couldn’t offer any suggestions on places to check.

His home was the second most obvious place he’d be, and Flynn made for the ocean, unconcerned that he was fully clothed. It would be quicker to swim around the cliff than run back to the cove, and Estelle wouldn’t be there to ask questions.

The cave was dark and empty, offering no sign of when Yuri had left or where he had gone. Flynn paced, mind whirling as he tried to think of where Yuri might be. He knew all the secret places along the shore, all the nooks and crannies in the cliffs. If he didn’t want to be found, Flynn would not be able to search him out.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He had to be over-thinking this. Yuri had lived with that memory for years. It couldn’t be so fresh in his mind that he’d actually try to avoid seeing Flynn off. He wasn’t seven anymore. He wasn’t hiding. He must have just needed to run an errand or something. It was just a matter of going into town to find him. He had time. They’d been planning on getting back to the city early enough to do a little shopping before their flight. He’d just have to make it up to Estelle later.

He swam back to the cove and practically ran up the path to the beach house. Thinking about the situation logically was one thing, but he couldn’t shake the uneasiness that had settled over him. It felt like if he didn’t see Yuri before he left, things wouldn’t ever be right between them.

Estelle had just finished packing the car when Flynn came around the house. With a quick apology, Flynn hauled his suitcase out from underneath everything else and began rifling through it for his sandals. Wandering around town in squelching socks and waterlogged sneakers was not an option.

“Flynn, what is going on?”

“I can’t find Yuri.” He looked up at her from where he was leaning against the car, trading out his footwear. “I’m sorry. I know I promised we’d go shopping, but….” He bit back a bitter laugh as he realized he was breaking another promise.

“Calm down. If you’re going to go look for him, change into some dry clothes.” She smiled reassuringly. “We’ve got a few hours to spare. Besides, you said you’d invite me down again, right? We can go shopping then.”

Flynn managed a smile for her and pulled a fresh shirt and pair of shorts out of his bag. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Do you want me to come help you look for him?”

“No. We’re probably just missing each other. Would you stay here in case he comes back?”

“Sure. I’ll text you if I see him.”

“Thanks.” He ran inside to change and was off again in only a couple minutes.

What was he supposed to say when he found him? ‘Sorry, I only just remembered breaking my promise to come back, but my dad died so you should get over it.’ Valid perhaps, but pretty insensitive. He was angry at Yuri for having held onto it for so long, angry at himself for having forgotten, and angry at Grandma Moira for not having bothered to tell Yuri anything. Things would have been so much easier if Yuri had understood what happened.

When he got to town, he checked the laundromat first, then the cake shop Yuri had recommended. No one on staff at either place had seen him that morning. He tried to remember some of the other places Yuri had described to him, places he’d been happy to see spring up in his growing town. There was the thrift store, an arcade, the small used bookstore where he’d probably gotten most of his cookbooks, and an animal shelter that Yuri had mentioned sometimes volunteering at. All of them were dead ends.

With no other clues, Flynn began checking in at any place that looked likely and a few that didn’t. He spoke with clerks, cashiers, waitstaff—anyone who might have seen Yuri around town—but no one could tell him anything helpful.

Just as he was getting ready to check what remained of their old childhood haunts, he noticed Adrien strolling down the street. The thought of having to ask him was galling, but he probably knew Yuri better than most of the locals. Flynn swallowed his pride and approached him.

“Have you seen Yuri?”

“He slipped your leash? Good for him.” He sighed as Flynn moved to stand directly in front of him when he tried to leave. “No, I haven’t seen him. Can I go now?”

“Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“I don’t know. When I want to find him, I always just go to the beach.”

“That was the first place I checked. Anywhere else?”

“How should I know? Dude, we’re fuck buddies, not bestest friends. I don’t give a damn what he gets up to when I’m not screwing his brains out.”

“You are such a prick.”

“And you’re really damn preachy for a tourist. When’s your vacation end? I’ll be counting the days.”

“I’m leaving this afternoon,” he said coldly.

“Well, thank God for small fucking favors. Bon voyage, Captain Buzzkill.”

Resisting the urge to follow Judith’s example and punch him in his still healing nose, Flynn let Adrien slip past him and wander off. He had more important things to be doing than trying to beat sense into a guy like that, anyway. Time was ticking away, and there were still a few of their old hangouts that Yuri had said hadn’t been lost to development. He would make a quick search of those places, and if he still couldn’t find Yuri…well, their talk would have to be postponed until he returned. Surely a few days wait couldn’t make that much of a difference.

“Are you the fella that’s been looking for Yuri?”

Flynn spun around to face the speaker, and ended up looking down at a little old man who seemed vaguely familiar.

“Yes. Have you seen him? It’s important.”

“Important, eh? I rather think if he’s not wanting to be found, he’s got an important reason for that, too. Don’t go bothering that boy. He’s got enough on his plate without being hounded by the likes of you.”

With a sigh, he spared an annoyed glance in the direction Adrien had gone. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, sir.”

“Hanks.”

“Sorry?”

“The name’s Hanks, not ‘sir.’”

“Yuri and I are old friends. I just wanted to talk to him before I left.”

“Friends, huh? The only friend of his I remember is….” He peered intently at Flynn. “Well, unless I’m mistaken, it’s you. You two hooligans used to tear around my store like you owned the place. Didn’t think I’d be seeing you back around these parts.”

“My grandma left me her house out at the cove. Please, Hanks, if you could tell me where to find Yuri, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Maybe so, but I can’t tell you where he’s gotten off to. Yuri keeps to himself. He helps me out every now and again, and I try to look out for him when I can, but he’s not the type to get close to people. Been through a lot, that one.”

“You have no idea,” Flynn muttered. “I’m sorry but, if you can’t tell me anything, I’ve got to get going. I’m sorry if we caused you any trouble when we were younger.”

Hanks waved him off, and Flynn returned to his search.

\------------------------

Yuri was nowhere to be found. Flynn searched everywhere he could think of, even going so far as to double back down Main Street and along the beach once more. There was no sign of him anywhere. It couldn’t simply be a coincidence. Yuri wasn’t running errands, he was hiding and Flynn still wasn’t completely sure why. Maybe it wasn’t even related to that old, broken promise. Maybe Yuri just didn’t like saying goodbye, even for a few days. Then again, maybe it was because he honestly didn’t believe Flynn would come back this time, either.

The infuriating thing was that Flynn had _told_ Yuri that he was coming back to fix up the house. He’d told him about wanting to rent it out and move to Driftwood Cove. If Yuri didn’t believe that he was going to come back, it meant he really didn’t trust Flynn at all. What sort of flighty, capricious person did he think Flynn was?

To be fair, the decision to keep the house had been somewhat abrupt. Flynn fully expected even his mother’s perpetual composure would crack when he broke the news to her. Maybe they would even have a real conversation for once. Still, one big, impetuous decision did not make him fickle, and a broken promise from when he was seven did not make him untrustworthy. He wished there was some way to prove that to Yuri.

Out of options and running short on time, Flynn made his way back to the beach house. Estelle was sitting on the back porch, a book resting open but unread in her lap as she stared out at the ocean.

“Any luck?”

“No.” Sighing, Flynn sank down to sit next to her.

“You’ll be back in a few days,” she offered. When Flynn didn’t respond, she rested a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you leave a message for him?”

He looked out over the waves. A message. He still wasn’t sure what to say, though. If the past five days hadn’t done anything to mend that old wound, what message could he possibly leave that would make a difference?

“I’m going to check one last place. I’ve got to swim to get there.” He got up and went to the car.

“Your suitcase is on top this time,” Estelle said. “Everything is packed.”

“Thank you.” 

He pulled out his swim trunks and went inside to change. As he let his shorts drop to the floor, he heard the jingle of keys in the pocket. He pulled them out and stared at the single key to his grandmother’s house. It would certainly send a message.

They had never unpacked the house, so it took Flynn a few minutes to find the box full of odds and ends containing a bit of cord he could use to tie the key on like a necklace. He added unpacking to his mental to-do list for getting the house ready, grabbed his clothes, and locked up as he left.

“I’ll be back shortly and then we can get going.” He left his clothes in the car and handed his key ring sans the house key to Estelle before making his way down to the beach.

The crash of the waves sang in his ears. The sand tickled as it shifted beneath his feet. He closed his eyes for a minute and just breathed in, feeling the wind rushing continually against his skin and the waves breaking around his legs. He would be coming back to this in a few days. Eventually, he would be coming back to stay. A smile spread across his face. Even the confusing mess that his relationship with Yuri had become was no match for the joy brought about by the thought that he would be moving to this beautiful place. He relaxed and stretched. Somehow, he was sure everything would work out.

Calm and confident, he waded out until he was deep enough to swim and struck out for Yuri’s cave. He was inside in minutes and lit the storm lantern to take one more look around. Nothing had changed since that morning, but he hadn’t really expected it to. If Yuri was really trying to avoid him, he’d stay gone until he was certain Flynn had left town.

He pulled the cord over his head and studied the key as it twisted and shone in the light. It would have to do. He had nothing else to leave that might be of any reassurance, and Yuri didn’t have paper or pen handy to leave even a short note. He tied the key to the ring at the top of the lantern. As an afterthought, he flipped through Yuri’s cookbooks until he found the old photos of the two of them and slipped those into the ring as well. Hopefully, his message would be clear.

He turned off the lantern and left.


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it for this one. Thanks for reading.
> 
> Again, the abridged version of this chapter is uploaded to fanfiction.net
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Yuri stared at the little silver key that had been tied to his lantern. He had a pretty good idea of what it was and who had left it, but he hadn’t settled on whether he should be amused or angry over the gesture. Judy leaned in close over his shoulder to see it.

“He was looking for you before he left.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you sure it was okay to let him go?”

He set the lantern down. He’d deal with the key later. “He was just a tourist. I don’t make a habit of getting attached to them.”

“Hmmm.” She understood the situation better than anyone else, really. She was the only person Yuri had ever talked to about Flynn, after all. Still, that knowing little ‘I see, I see’ noise of hers was annoying.

“I’m surprised you’re still around. Now that Zagi’s been dealt with, isn’t your business here finished?”

“Not quite. You’ve got something to say to me, don’t you?”

“You stuck around for my sake? I’m touched.” He set aside the joking. If Judy wanted serious, he could do serious. “You used Flynn as bait knowing that Zagi would try to kill him. All you needed was for that psycho to get a little human blood on his hands and the Courts would take care of the rest.”

She smiled slyly at him. “You make it sound like I sent him here on purpose. I was just trying to look out for you.”

“You put Flynn’s life in danger.”

“It all worked out in the end. Would it make you feel better if I let you hit me?”

“I’d rather take a favor as payment.”

Her eyes twinkled. “How shrewd. What will it be?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Very well.” She plucked a strand of her hair and passed it to him. “Hold on to this. When you decide what it is that you want, use it to call me.”

Carefully, Yuri wrapped the hair around the hilt of his dagger and tied it securely. When he looked up, Judy was gone.

“Guess I’m on my own again.”

\------------------------

Flynn really did come back. Late one morning, only a few days after he had left, he came striding across the dunes, surfboard under one arm. He stopped at the foot of the lifeguard post and looked up at Yuri.

“I brought my own board this time. Watch me, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Yuri was too stunned to say anything else. He couldn’t help but stare as Flynn dashed out into the surf, not hesitating for a second at the temperature, sliding up onto his board and paddling out to catch a wave that would carry him right back to shore.

He wouldn’t stay long. All that talk about the beach house wouldn’t keep him in Driftwood Cove. He’d fix the place up, get it rented out, and take off—an absentee landlord. His life was elsewhere.

As Yuri tried to watch any of the other swimmers, Flynn rode wave after wave. Only a few got the better of him and knocked him into the ocean. Every now and again, Yuri would hear him shout out his exhilaration, and his gaze would be drawn straight to Flynn’s form, a bright spot against the dark water. It was amazing to compare that confident surfer to the kid he’d fished out of the sea fourteen years ago.

After a while, Flynn came back to shore. He stuck the end of his board down into the sand and took a seat next to the tower, soaked and beaming.

“When will you be finished with work?”

“I only went on shift a couple hours ago.”

“Well, when’s your break, then? I need to get my key from you. All my stuff’s still in my car.”

Why hadn’t he just gone to the cave to look for it? Had he all of a sudden developed respect for boundaries? Not that he would have found it there, anyway.

“I put it in our old hiding place.”

“Old hiding place…. Loose board on the third step?”

“I’m impressed.”

Flynn laughed, though he didn’t sound all that amused. “No, you’re not. Surprised, maybe.” He turned his gaze out to the ocean. Yuri had to lean out a little to see that he wasn’t smiling anymore. “I left that key with you on purpose.”

“I know.” It didn’t mean anything.

Standing up, Flynn brushed off his legs and pulled his board out of the sand. “I’m going to go get settled back in. Come have dinner with me tonight.”

“Not if you’re cooking.”

Flynn smiled up at him. “I’ll wait for you.” He waved and walked off across the sand.

“Trust Adrien to have flaked out when I actually needed him,” Yuri muttered once Flynn was out of sight. “I could’ve used an excuse.” He couldn’t just not show up, now. He was expected.

\------------------------

Flynn did cook. The food looked wonderful. When it came to taste, however, it was better suited to being ammunition for a food fight and Yuri put it to good use.

_See, Flynn? Everything seems fine and we don’t have to talk about it._

Somehow, cleanup went from Yuri picking a piece of broccoli out of spiked blond hair to Flynn licking a bit of splatter off Yuri’s cheek and from there, it was more or less a foregone conclusion that the evening was going to end in the bedroom.

Flynn stroked Yuri’s scales, kissing everywhere he could reach, and it almost seemed to Yuri that he was trying to wash away the taste of his own cooking. Their first time, Flynn had called him noisy. That night, Yuri discovered that Flynn could be equally loud, if less obscene, when it was Yuri thrusting into him. He caught himself wondering if it had been Flynn’s first time that way, and snuck out when Flynn went to take a shower.

Sleep eluded him for most of the night as he tossed and turned in his nest of blankets, listening to the constant crashing of the waves.

\------------------------

Flynn stayed at the beach house for the rest of the summer. He joined a yoga class that met near the lifeguard post every morning. The instructor, a scruffy old man who went by Raven, taught something new every few months. Yuri had picked up a few self-defense moves watching one of his classes a few years back.

Yuri began spending most of his evenings with Flynn. Some days he showed up early enough to help out with improvements. Usually, he just ended up cooking dinner for the two of them.

One night, he made crepes for dessert. Flynn stared at him the entire time they were eating, smiling between bites. Yuri polished his off before Flynn’s was even a third finished.

“Do you not like sweets, or something?”

“I was watching you enjoy yours.”

“Ugh. Smiling when you say stuff like that just makes it creepier.” He stole the unfinished crepe and ate it. Flynn could taste it on him later.

Yuri never stayed the night. On the evenings when they had sex, when they lay together afterward, spent and catching their breath, Flynn would trail his fingers over Yuri’s back and say: “It’s late. You should stay.” It became like a ritual for him, and he always made the offer in the same soft, hopeful tone no matter how many times Yuri slipped away in the darkness. Every night, Yuri would return alone to his cave overlooking the sea, certain that one day Flynn would get tired of asking, that he’d go on back to his own home, and that it would be so much easier to move on if the dinners and the sex and the invitations into his life didn’t mean anything. He hated himself a little bit for that, but he didn’t have it in him to believe Flynn might prove him wrong.

Summer break ended with the two of them still caught in that strange limbo, and Yuri found that he was actually a little glad that Flynn was leaving. Things would go back to normal, now. The house was fixed up, he’d found people who wanted to rent it, and there was no reason for him to return. 

Before he left, Flynn gave Yuri the crepe pan back. He apologized, since he’d said Yuri could keep it at the beach house, but with strangers coming to rent it, Flynn wanted to make sure the pan was safely in Yuri’s care.

Yuri saw him off properly that time, grinning and making sure Flynn had no reason to worry about leaving him behind. He took on extra shifts at work and odd jobs and tried not to think about the stupid, Flynn-shaped hole that had been torn in his life.

\------------------------

Four months later, Flynn was back again. He appeared on the beach one evening shortly before Yuri’s shift ended.

“Hey. Are you off soon?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought you might want to go get some dinner. My treat.”

“Okay.” The response was automatic and shocked him almost as much as Flynn’s sudden return did. 

They chatted for a while until it was time for Yuri to leave, then walked over the sand, heading for the closest access path leading to Main Street. Yuri caught Flynn reaching for his hand at one point, and shoved both his hands deep into his pockets, hunching his shoulders as if he was cold. He was uncomfortable with the deception—it was too close to a lie—but he didn’t know what was going on, wasn’t sure why Flynn was back, how long he was going to stay, what he wanted from their relationship. For the first time, Yuri felt at sea in the figurative sense. He didn’t like the feeling.

Flynn let him pick the restaurant, and he chose a little hole-in-the-wall place that had good burgers and great desserts. He filled the quiet between them with talk about his lessening hours and some of the stupid shit tourists did on his watch. Flynn smiled and laughed and watched him eat. He looked so…at ease. It was really annoying.

Since there were people still renting the beach house, Flynn was staying in a cheap hotel. Yuri followed him back to his room and they barely made it inside before Flynn pushed him back against the door and kissed him. There was no longer any silence between them to banish with chatter. The room was filled with the smack of open-mouthed kisses, the rustle of cloth and creak of bed springs, gasps and moans, groans, cries, and profanities. 

Afterward, Yuri left before Flynn even got up to shower. He let the ocean wash away the smell of Flynn and sex and felt it burn in the scratches and bite marks. He curled up with his back against the cavern wall and tried to figure out what he was going to do when he saw Flynn the next day. In the end, he figured the only thing to do was to try and enjoy it while it lasted.

He got up early the following morning and washed his hair under one of the public showers set up for swimmers to rinse off the ocean before leaving the beach. Raven caught him at it. He’d seen Yuri there before with his little mesh toiletry bag, but he’d never said anything about it, never done anything more than smile and continue on his way. He had another self-defense class starting soon. It was always something more active during the cooler months. Yuri wondered briefly if Flynn would be joining that one, too, but quickly pushed the thought away. One season of trying to keep his attention on his job rather than Flynn’s ass was more than enough.

The fates must have been feeling mischievous, because when Flynn showed up carrying his board, he was wearing a black and azure wetsuit and Yuri couldn’t help but stare. He wolf whistled and grinned as Flynn got closer.

“That’s a good look for you.”

“You’re making fun of me. It’s just a wetsuit.”

“I speak only the truth, remember? You look hot.” 

The compliment had him blushing, but Yuri didn’t miss the little flash of guilt that crossed his face. Every time he was reminded of Yuri’s resolve to never lie to him, he looked like a kicked puppy. It was his own fault, really. He’d had the chance to ask something else.

Sometimes, Yuri thought it would have been kinder if he’d lied then, though he knew he wouldn’t take it back even if he could. He’d answered Flynn’s question truthfully, and Flynn would have to live with the answer.

It had been a tricky kind of truth, though. The answer he gave only applied to the way they were as adults. He’d never told Flynn why he hadn’t ever lied to him as a child. That summer, seven-year-old Yuri had fallen in love.

It wasn’t the romantic kind of love, not really, he just knew that he _adored_ Flynn and that, in all the stories his mother had told him about humans and faeries, only the lovers who were true overcame their trials and earned a happy ending. So, little Yuri had been true. Flynn hadn’t.

That had been a hard lesson in reality, and one that Yuri never forgot. Worse, his mother had disappeared shortly before Flynn was supposed to have come back. Alone and miserable, Yuri had waited for him for months before he realized that being blond and blue-eyed didn’t make you true and that little half-breed monsters didn’t get happy endings.

After that, he’d worked hard to become as self-sufficient as possible. He shied away from making personal connections with anyone, even though he was trapped in that little town with plenty of people who acted like they were genuinely nice and that really sucked because he wanted so badly to like them. He never really fell out of love with Flynn and some days that was the worst part of it all.

“Yuri, you’re staring.”

“Duh.” He smirked, hoping Flynn wouldn’t notice that his mind had been wandering to unpleasant places. It was nice enough in the present. It’d be a shame to spoil it with questions or bad memories.

“When’s your next day off?”

“Day after tomorrow. I’m on a short shift today, though. Someone should be coming to fill in at one.”

Flynn’s smile was ridiculously bright. “You should come with me this afternoon, then. I’ll pick you up and we can grab some lunch.”

“Sure.”

Before Yuri quite knew what was happening, Flynn reached out and curled a hand around the back of his neck beneath his hair to pull him in for a light, quick kiss. The PDA left him looking positively impish. Unable to completely banish a smile of his own, Yuri shoved him away.

“We’ll get to that later. Go surf.”

With one last affectionate tug on Yuri’s hair, Flynn spun on his heel and dashed off into the waves. Caught up in watching him, Yuri almost didn’t notice the sound of footsteps coming up behind him.

“Didn’t expect him to be back,” Adrien said.

“Tell me about it.” 

Wiping what he was sure would have been a foolishly sappy smile off his face, Yuri turned to look at him. He didn’t like leaving his back to Adrien. The man wasn’t really all that bright, but he could be damnably curious sometimes.

“What’s he in town for? Problems with the house?”

“Probably. Ether that or a vacation, I guess. We don’t really keep in touch.”

“Then if you aren’t going to be busy tonight with your little boyfriend—”

Yuri rolled his eyes. He hated hearing him refer to Flynn that way, and Adrien knew it.

“—why not come over to my place tonight?”

“Can I use your kitchen?”

“I love it when you cook.”

“All right. I’ve got some stuff to take care of after work. I’ll be by around four.”

“Looking forward to it.” He strolled off down the beach, whistling.

As he climbed the lifeguard tower, Yuri smiled. With Flynn staying in a hotel, he hadn’t thought he’d get a chance to cook. He may not be able to manage a meal for the two of them out of Adrien’s kitchen, but he knew a recipe for some killer garlic and herb rolls that Flynn might like. He could pick up the ingredients after lunch and drop off the rolls the next morning before work. It would be a nice surprise.

\------------------------

One o’clock rolled around and Flynn showed up on the dot dressed in a tight black tee and royal blue button down over pale jeans. He smiled hugely as Yuri climbed down to meet him.

“Do you want to change before we go?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He eyed Flynn critically. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“No reason.” He took Yuri’s hand, tugging eagerly. “Let’s go.”

Bemused, Yuri let himself be led away from the beach. The way Flynn was dressed, the way he didn’t let go of Yuri’s hand even after they reached Main Street sort of made it feel like a date, which was stupid. They weren’t dating. They were old friends who sometimes slept together. It was practically the same arrangement Yuri had with Adrien.

 _No_ , Yuri thought, _this would be much easier if it was the same as with Adrien. It’s not, though. Even if we’re going through the same motions, this is different and that really, really sucks._

He slipped his hand out of Flynn’s and shoved it in his pocket. He didn’t even bother trying to pretend he was chilly. When Flynn asked if he was all right, he changed the subject to where they were headed for lunch. Flynn took him to a seafood place a little more upscale that Yuri was used to. It was a nice change of pace.

This time, he kept Flynn talking about school, work, his friends, anything. There was one girl—Sodia—that Flynn spoke particularly highly of. If Yuri didn’t know better, he would have suspected that Flynn was attracted to her. It was sort of a pity. She sounded like she’d have been good for him. Having a girlfriend probably would have kept him from coming back to play screw-with-Yuri, at least. Hell, a boyfriend would have done the trick. Estelle needed to hook Flynn up with someone before he drove Yuri crazy.

The conversation lasted all through lunch and kept them away from sticky subjects such as what was going on between them and what Flynn was doing back in town. It was almost comfortable being with him like that, except Yuri kept remembering that even if he wanted something more, Flynn would be gone again soon. Maybe he would return to visit a few more times, but one day he would leave and not come back. Some new project would catch his fancy, and he’d be back to his own life for good. The tenuous, undefined connection between them was all Yuri would get from him.

When the check arrived, Flynn paid and they left the restaurant. Yuri was feeling full and mostly content and grinned at Flynn as they walked down the street.

“So what’s up with the outfit? Needing to talk to the lawyer about the house again?” 

He’d said it without thinking because the only other times he’d seen Flynn dressed like that were his visits to the attorney that summer. The sudden realization sat heavy in his stomach. If Flynn needed to talk to the attorney about the house, it might mean he was over the whole bed and breakfast idea already and was getting set to sell, to pull up stakes and leave. Yuri managed to keep his grin in place, but only just barely.

“Nothing like that. I’m going to look around at apartments today. I thought you could help me choose one.”

Oh. That was a whole different problem.

“I can’t do it today,” Yuri said and immediately Flynn’s smile faded.

“Why not? You didn’t say anything when I asked earlier.”

“I thought you just wanted to grab lunch. I made other plans for tonight.”

“Can’t you cancel?”

“Why do you need me for this, anyway? There aren’t but a couple places in town. Just check them out and pick one.”

“I was hoping we could go together. What are you doing tonight? Maybe we could at least get together again later.”

“It’s not in the cards. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He started to walk away, but Flynn grabbed his arm.

“Yuri, it’s not…. You aren’t going to Adrien’s place, are you?”

“I’m going grocery shopping.”

“And afterwards? That’s not exactly something you need to set aside a whole evening for.”

Suddenly furious, Yuri shoved him away. “What business is it of yours? You come drifting into town and expect me to drop everything and be at your beck and call until you leave? Fuck you. Where were you fourteen years ago? Nine years ago? We’ve gotten along just fine without each other up until now. We can do it again.”

This time, Flynn didn’t stop him as he stormed off. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to dive into the ocean and swim deeper and deeper until spots started clouding his vision and he had to surface or drown.

He’d been fine without Flynn when his mother disappeared, and he was fine when Zagi came for him. He didn’t need Flynn and his stupid expectations and his apartment. Why was he even looking at apartments, anyway? He was barely around. It would be a waste. Unless….

Yuri tried to push the thought away. He was angry enough without that to consider, but it stubbornly refused to leave him alone. What if the reason Flynn had been so insistent about bringing Yuri along was so he could get an apartment for Yuri to live in? The very idea was ridiculous. Flynn was just a college student. There was no way he could afford something like that. He couldn’t be making enough between his part time job and the rent from the beach house to be able to pay for an apartment he wouldn’t even be using. Besides, he knew how Yuri felt about charity. He’d have known Yuri wouldn’t accept being a kept man. There had to be another reason.

He didn’t feel like making the stupid rolls anymore. Honestly, he didn’t even want to go see Adrien, but he went anyway, if only to prove a point. Things weren’t going to change just because Flynn wanted them to. The world didn’t work that way.

\------------------------

The next morning, Yuri woke up early with a knot in his back from sleeping on Adrien’s couch. Even if he wasn’t convinced Adrien only let him stay over in the hopes that Yuri would cook him breakfast, he wouldn’t have shared a bed for obvious reasons. He tried to rub the kinks out of his back until his efforts started reminding him of Flynn.

Ignoring the stiffness, he got up and went prowling around the kitchen for something to occupy his mind. He tried making crepes using Adrien’s frying pan. They never came out right that way, but it was the best he could do with the tools on hand. At least Adrien had a sweet tooth and would appreciate the treat.

On the way to the beach, he went by Flynn’s hotel. That late in the year, the parking lot was nearly empty. He didn’t see Flynn’s rental car, and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. It stayed with him all through work, and when he went by again that afternoon to check, the car was still missing. He went to the room Flynn had been staying in anyway and knocked. There was no answer. 

He’d known Flynn wouldn’t stick around forever, but it was a bit shocking that it had taken so little to drive him away. He hadn’t even tried to say goodbye this time. Yuri made his way up to the high point of the cliff outside of town, the place where he had fallen over the edge with Zagi, and sat and stared out over the ocean until the sun set, leaving him to make his way home in the dark.

He settled in for a while on his pile of blankets, carving a new figure by candlelight. He’d nearly replenished their numbers and had actually been thinking about taking a few to Hanks to see if he’d be interested in selling them in his general store. He hadn’t gotten around to doing it, though. It irked him a little to think he’d be following Flynn’s advice, maybe even admitting in a way that he needed help. He wasn’t hurting for cash. Living in a cave might be unconventional, but it kept his bills low.

He was putting the finishing touches on a seal, making minute adjustments to the almost sly expression on its face, when he heard someone call his name. He looked up to see Flynn emerging from the low-ceilinged entrance to his home.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to come in without knocking?”

“You don’t have a door.”

“Maybe I’ll build one, just for you.”

“Yuri….” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, slicking it back. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just disappear like that. I had to go pick up Estelle and Sodia at the airport, and I didn’t realize what I’d done until we were on our way back.”

“What are you apologizing for? It’s none of my business what you do.”

“Don’t be like that. I’m admitting I was wrong. The least you could do is acknowledge that.”

“Fine.” He fiddled with the little seal as Flynn fidgeted and toyed with the other figures lining the shelves.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask anything you want. Doesn’t mean you’ll get an answer.”

“Did you go to his place?”

Briefly, he considered evading the question, but that would have pretty much amounted to telling Flynn the truth, anyway. Besides, he was sick of hiding things.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I told him I would.”

“But why would you _want_ to? He doesn’t even see you as a person!”

“So what? Adrien’s a moron. You think I care what he sees in me?”

“If you know that, then why—”

“I needed his kitchen, all right? I wanted to cook something for you, so I went over to use his kitchen.”

That managed to shut him up for a minute. He gaped, at a loss for words, and shook his head.

“So…you didn’t sleep with him?”

“Of course I did. That’s kind of like the entrance fee to his apartment.”

“You prostituted yourself out to cook for me?” 

Oh, that was not a good tone of voice. Setting aside the seal and his knife, Yuri stood up slowly, watching Flynn. He hadn’t been looking for a fight, but he would be ready if one started.

“Actually, no. I didn’t end up cooking. Sorry to disappoint.”

“I wouldn’t have eaten it anyway!”

“What the fuck? All of a sudden my cooking’s not good enough for you?”

“This is about who you’re screwing, not what you’re cooking.”

“What the hell is your problem?”

“I just don’t understand why you would keep sleeping with him when you’ve got me!”

It was Yuri’s turn to be struck momentarily speechless. He stared at Flynn, who was glaring at him, clenching and unclenching his fists. He had a sudden, horrible realization.

“Flynn, what am I to you?”

“I _thought_ you were my boyfriend.”

 _Oh,_ shit. _Really?_ Yuri rubbed a hand over his face.

“I don’t think we’ve been on the same page about what’s going on here.” Forget the same page, Flynn had a whole different book. When had he decided on that? Yuri sure didn’t remember being clued in.

“What do you mean?” 

He didn’t sound so angry anymore, but the confused tone that replaced it and the hurt look on his face weren’t really an improvement. Anger was something Yuri knew how to deal with. He had some of his own to respond with, anyway. Boyfriend. Yeah, right.

There wasn’t really any good way to answer, so he shrugged and went with the most succinct. “I thought we were fuck buddies.”

He almost laughed at the look on Flynn’s face. Almost. He was pretty sure laughing at that point would trigger an actual fight and he figured maybe he ought to save that for someplace better suited to it. He didn’t want to make a mess out of his space.

“How could you say that?”

“Gee, Flynn, maybe it has something to do with you showing up for surfing and some sex and then taking off again.”

“I told you, I have to graduate before I can move down here.”

Yuri shrugged and sank back down onto his bed, satisfied that Flynn’s inclination to start anything had drained away. “You changed your mind about the house.”

“You really don’t trust me, do you?” It was a rhetorical question, and Flynn sat down next to him with a sigh. “Where do we go from here? I like you. I want there to be something more between us but…what do you want?”

Yeah, he wanted that, but he also wanted to be able to trust people—which he didn’t—and for Flynn to not want to talk about this—which he did. Seeing only one way out, Yuri smirked as he turned to Flynn, pushing him down against the blankets and kissing him. Flynn was warm, he was always so warm, but he pushed Yuri back, frowning.

“That isn’t really an answer.”

“You asked what I want, and what I want is for you to fuck me.”

“Do you have to say it like that?”

“What, you want me to say ‘make love’ instead?”

“Well—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He tried shutting him up with another kiss, but Flynn was shoving at this shoulders and turning his face away, so Yuri settled for kissing his neck. He grazed Flynn’s skin with his teeth, grinning at the shiver that ran through him.

“This isn’t going to solve anything.” Even as Flynn said it, he was reaching beneath Yuri’s shirt, pushing it up and out of the way, exposing Yuri’s back to the cool air.

“Shut up.” 

The words were muffled against Flynn’s throat. The taste of salt was heavy as blood on Yuri’s tongue and he was suddenly very aware of the beat of Flynn’s pulse just beneath the skin. It would take so little to break through, and his own heart sped up in response to that thought. He pulled away before he bit down. Drawing blood just then would be a bad idea. He was still riled up from their argument and feeling a little happier than maybe he should after hearing Flynn out. There was too much going on in his head, and he was afraid that the instincts passed down from his mother would take over if he wasn’t very careful. Instead, he sat back and yanked his shirt off, tossing it away.

Flynn propped himself up, threading his fingers through Yuri’s hair to pull him close enough to kiss, pressing his tongue between Yuri’s lips. He slid his hands over Yuri’s shoulders, letting his fingers play lightly over the scales until Yuri threatened to pull away again. 

The warmth and pressure of another person’s touch against his back was such a simple thing, really, but so unexpectedly important. He groaned as Flynn raked his nails down his back, tearing a few scales loose. It stung and it hurt, but he’d never been touched like that by anyone else—he’d never _let_ anyone else touch him like that—and all he could do was hold Flynn tighter. He started to push him down again, but Flynn resisted.

Expecting more protests or talk about feelings, Yuri rolled his eyes and broke the kiss. Flynn surprised him, though.

“I want to see your back this time.”

He hesitated, but the look on Flynn’s face was pure need, and he was reasonably convinced that any more talking was going to be postponed. Thank goodness he was so easy to distract.

“Whatever floats your boat.”

He started to get up, and Flynn hooked his fingers into the waistband of his trunks, pulling them down as he stood. Yuri laughed a little as Flynn’s hands tickled against his thighs.

“I’m coming right back.” 

It was three steps to the shelf where he’d left his shower bag and he snatched the lube out of it. When he turned back around, Flynn had shed his own shorts and was waiting for him, naked and eager. 

Flynn drew Yuri down on top of him, kissing haphazardly along his jaw, neck and chest. As Yuri braced himself on hands and knees, Flynn slipped the tube out of his hand. He distracted Yuri with kisses and gentle bites, even tugging at one of his nipples with his teeth. Yuri moaned a little and hung his head, wishing Flynn would get on with it. Finally, he felt Flynn’s fingers, slick with lube, reaching around to prepare him. He spread his legs further apart to give him better access as he ground against him. The movement drew a moan from Flynn, and he pressed his fingers deeper inside Yuri. Flynn took less time readying him when faced with the prospect of finishing too soon as Yuri rocked, thrusting their hips together again and again.

Rolling aside, Flynn moved to kneel behind Yuri. He took only a moment to ready himself, not long enough for any complaints, and then Yuri cried out as he took in the whole of Flynn’s length. Shaking, he forced himself to relax and take a few deep breaths as Flynn held himself still until Yuri felt ready enough to push back against him.

He started off slow and careful, just like every time. Yuri felt Flynn lean over him, lips brushing over every inch of scaled flesh he could reach. He shivered as the warmth of Flynn’s kisses chilled, leaving his back dappled with cold spots even as heat pooled inside him. He was a little surprised Flynn could stomach it. He still thought the scales were weird, and he’d been born with them. As long as Flynn kept touching him, though, he didn’t really care.

The pace of Flynn’s thrusts remained steady. He was being unusually gentle, though he had certainly realized by then that Yuri had no qualms about things getting rough. The bastard was doing it on purpose, even adjusting when Yuri tried to set the pace, pulling back as Yuri pushed against him and moving forward in unison. His arms were wrapped around Yuri, one hand playing over his chest as the other stroked him with the same long, sure rhythm that was slowly driving Yuri crazy.

“Fuck, Flynn, are you falling asleep back there or something?”

The comment had the desired effect as Flynn suddenly slammed into him. Reflexively, Yuri cried out and threw his shoulders back. Dimly, he heard Flynn chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just think you’re really adorable.”

“You are going to eat those wor— _shit_!” He gasped and tried to catch his breath as Flynn eased back after another particularly sudden thrust. “I guess taunts and threats do it for you, huh?”

“How do you feel about me?”

“Not a lot right now. Fucking move!”

“You could use a little patience.”

“Fucking tease.”

“Stubborn jerk.”

Thankfully, Flynn set aside his questioning again in favor of more amorous activities. It was only a matter of time before his self-control was eroded by the mounting pressure and his movements became more forceful, much to Yuri’s satisfaction. He moved with Flynn and moaned and cursed, knowing Flynn would recognize his shouts and swears as approval.

Yuri spent himself first and slumped into the rumpled covers. Moments later, he felt Flynn orgasm, clawing Yuri’s sides as he shuddered. He collapsed forward and his weight bore them down where they lay panting. 

After a few minutes, Flynn rolled off him and Yuri had a second to hope that maybe he would just fall asleep and there wouldn’t be anymore awkward questions that he couldn’t bring himself to answer. When Flynn finally spoke, he almost wished they had gone back to talking about their relationship.

“My dad died two months after we left. He was killed on the job. I’d been looking for the right time to tell you, but there isn’t really any good way to talk about something like that. I remember you liked him. He said you were a good kid.”

Yuri wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Sorry’ didn’t seem anywhere near sufficient. He said it anyway, not sure if he meant it as sympathy for the loss or for the way he’d just assumed the worst for all those years. He said it again, because Flynn deserved to hear it for both reasons.

“I’ve come to terms with it. I wouldn’t be looking at becoming a police officer if I hadn’t. I just…after all you told me about Grandma Moira, I realized you’d probably never heard about it. You deserved to know, and I didn’t want you to go on thinking I’d just thrown away my memories of that summer.”

“Your grandmother…she was pretty stoic. I never had a clue.” He curled in on himself. Life wasn’t a fairy tale. Sometimes it just really, really sucked. He’d thought Flynn didn’t understand that, but obviously he’d been wrong.

“I’m not going anywhere. I kept the house because I want to make my home here. I want to live near the ocean, near you. Even if you never feel the same way about me, I’ll still be here. I’m going to get an apartment. One day, I’ll move into the beach house. This is where I belong, I’m sure of it, and I want you to be a part of my life.”

Yuri heard him roll over, felt Flynn’s fingers begin their slow, familiar caress up and down his back.

“It’s late. Can I stay here tonight?”

They needed to get up and wash off, but Yuri didn’t really want to move. He nodded and, even facing away, he was sure he could feel the warmth of Flynn’s smile.

\------------------------

The next morning, Yuri followed Flynn back to his room at the hotel. The girls had spent the night in the adjacent suite. Estelle greeted Yuri with a hug, which he bore patiently as mild discomfort over the touch warred with gladness over being remembered fondly. He received a much colder reception from Sodia who looked him over disdainfully and snubbed him in favor of pestering Flynn about where he’d been last night.

Flynn was tactful in answering, saying simply that he and Yuri had been catching up but, from his easy demeanor when he introduced her to Yuri, it was obvious that Flynn had no idea that Sodia was interested in him. Yuri actually felt a little bad for her. Nothing quite like losing the war without fighting a single battle.

After everyone got ready, the group headed for the beach. They played volleyball, Yuri and Estelle against Flynn and Sodia, and the girls had to rein their partners in as competitiveness started to get the better of Yuri and Flynn. Yuri and Estelle won and Flynn agreed to treat them to ice cream. Then, because he was too much of a gentleman to leave a girl out, he bought Sodia a cone as well which, in Yuri’s opinion, completely defeated the point of acknowledging the victors.

They went swimming for a while. Flynn hadn’t brought his board that morning, so he didn’t surf, and Sodia stuck to him like glue, so they had to be careful what they talked about, but it was still fun. Yuri took small revenge on Sodia for trying to monopolize Flynn by dropping hints about their relationship. Flynn caught on and looked at him quizzically, but didn’t seem to understand why Yuri seemed so amused about it.

They dried off in the sun and lunched at the diner. The afternoon was spent exploring the town, poking through the kitschy souvenir shops or following Yuri as he played tour guide to some of the more interesting places hidden down side streets. Yuri told them stories about the town as they went, as well as tales he’d heard from Judy. Estelle was delighted, and suggested he collect them into a book of local lore. Flynn smiled knowingly and took any opportunity to reach out and touch Yuri, letting his hand linger on his back as they guided the group though shops and streets. Sodia remained aloof, though she responded warmly any time Flynn spoke to her and glared at Yuri when no one else would notice. Still, Yuri found that he was having more fun than he’d expected. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been part of a group. He relaxed and laughed and, for the first time, let himself hope that maybe things would be like that from then on.

The day grew late, and they began talking about where to go for dinner.

“It’s a pity you can’t cook for us, Yuri,” Estelle said. 

Flynn shifted uneasily at that, probably reminded of the argument they’d had about Adrien and the price for using his kitchen. Yuri grinned and shrugged.

“Come back when Flynn gets his apartment. I’ll cook for you there.”

Flynn and Sodia both stared at him in open-mouthed shock. When Flynn’s surprise quickly changed to a blindingly bright smile, Sodia took one look at that expression and scowled so fiercely at Yuri that he nearly took a step back. There was something weird about her eyes, and he wondered if maybe she wasn’t entirely human either. He didn’t like that idea, particularly as some mixed-bloods inherited more from their fae ancestors than just physical abnormalities. Picking a fight with her might end up being more trouble than it was worth.

Though if she didn’t quit giving him that look, Yuri was going to find out exactly how much trouble she could be anyway. Fae or not, unrequited crush or not, she was getting on his nerves. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but Flynn reached out and grabbed his hand.

“You pick.”

“What?”

“You pick the restaurant. You know what’s good around here.” 

He was smiling like an idiot, big blue eyes shining as he held one of Yuri’s hands in both of his, and Yuri was willing to bet that the thoughts running through Flynn’s mind had nothing to do with dinner. He’d seen similar expressions before, though the other people he’d slept with had never looked at him with that all-too-earnest depth of feeling. He wondered if Flynn knew that he looked stupidly in love when he smiled like that. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before, himself.

Dinner went by in a blur. Yuri’s mind wasn’t on the food he ate, but the way Flynn would taste beneath his tongue and the sounds Yuri could coax from him with lips and teeth. He barely cared for the company anymore, save for Flynn’s distracting presence at his side. He wasn’t interested in talking, but in the hand that stroked down his back, brushed over his thigh, twined fingers with his when he let his own hand drop beneath the table between them. Flynn was driving him to distraction and if he wasn’t so ready to jump him, he’d want to kick his ass for having that much power over him. They couldn’t get back to the hotel soon enough.

Of course, once they did get back, Sodia wouldn’t take a hint. She trapped Flynn right outside his door in conversation about stupid things, about teachers and assignments and mutual friends, about things that had nothing to do with Yuri or making out. Finally, Yuri got tired of waiting for Flynn to shut her up. He scooted between them, grabbing Flynn’s key card and opening up the door.

“Excuse us.” He smirked and hauled Flynn into the room, pushing the door closed before Sodia could take it into her head to follow them. He’d actually had to reach past Flynn to shut the door, which suited Yuri just fine because it made it that much easier to shove him up against it and kiss him senseless.

“Yuri, wait.” Or maybe not so senseless. “I didn’t even tell them—”

“Give it a minute, and I’m sure they’ll get the idea.” He pressed himself fully up against Flynn, running fingers through his hair.

“Not…what…I meant.” 

He spoke in between brief kisses and Yuri caught him on the last one, deepening the kiss and holding Flynn’s head to discourage him from trying to pull away. It was just getting good, Flynn was kissing him back and tugging promisingly on his shirt, when someone—one guess as to who—knocked on the door.

“Flynn?” 

_Get a fucking clue, Sodia._ “Ocupado,” Yuri called.

She knocked again. “Flynn, are you coming back out?”

“No habla Inglés!”

“Yuri!” Flynn’s shoulders were shaking with repressed laughter and Yuri sighed and gave up, backing away to let him open the door. To Flynn’s credit, he only opened it a crack.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry. Yuri and I sort of have a lot to catch up on. Why don’t we call it a night? Tomorrow, I can teach you how to surf.”

“All right.” 

She didn’t sound like she thought it was all right, but Flynn accepted her answer, bid the girls good night, and shut the door. Yuri noted with approval that he even flipped the security latch. He was learning.

Flynn smiled cheerfully, in high spirits even for his standards, and grabbed Yuri around the waist. “Where were we?”

“I think I had my tongue halfway down your throat in an attempt to hold your attention. I guess we saw how well that worked.”

“You’re the one who answered her.” He murmured the words millimeters from Yuri’s lips, eyes twinkling.

“Like you wouldn’t have given me hell for ignoring her.” 

He tilted his chin and they were kissing again, tongues sliding against each other. They stumbled clumsily to the bed and collapsed onto it, clutching at each other, hands sliding between fabric and skin, seeking contact that wouldn’t require breaking the kiss for even the few seconds required to slip out of a t-shirt. Touching blindly, they explored each other beneath their clothes, tracing around muscles, noting the places that drew shivers or moans. 

Everything was going extremely well…and then Flynn found the spot. As soon as Flynn’s fingers grazed that one spot low on his stomach, Yuri let out a noise somewhere between a bark of laughter and a gasp. Flynn jerked back to stare at him and started to say something before realization dawned. A wicked grin spread across his face and Yuri lurched off the bed.

“Don’t even think it.”

“I never would have guessed.” Slowly, eyes on Yuri the whole time, Flynn stood and began to stalk him as he backed around the room.

“Stop right there.”

“Yuri—”

“I mean it, Flynn.”

“You’re _ticklish_.” 

It should have been illegal to look so delighted about discovering something like that. Flynn lunged, just barely missing him as Yuri jumped onto the bed. On his way across, however, his feet got tangled in the comforter, and he dropped to land with a bounce on the mattress. With that, it was over. Flynn was on him in a second, shoving his shirt up and tickling him mercilessly. Laughing helplessly, Yuri rolled and writhed, but there was no escape.

“Damn it, Flynn!” He couldn’t bat him away, couldn’t curl into a ball tight enough to keep Flynn’s fingers from finding that damned spot. His whole body convulsed with laughter. Hot tears wet his cheeks.

“Say ‘uncle!’”

“Fuck you! Stop! Stop! Stop!” Yuri’s stomach hurt from laughing and still Flynn was relentless. “Uncle, you goddamn asshole! Fucking uncle!”

Satisfied with his victory, Flynn sat back and let Yuri sprawl across the mattress as his laughter petered out and he caught his breath.

Once he could breathe normally again, Yuri glared up at Flynn. “I am going to make you regret that.”

“You’re welcome to try.” Flynn did smug way too well. Smug was Yuri’s thing. Oh, was he going to get it.

There was a knock at the door that connected their room to the girls’ and Yuri turned his face into the blankets. “Fucking hell,” he muttered.

“Everything okay in there?”

“We’re fine, Sodia. Sorry to disturb you.” Flynn was quiet for a minute and Yuri could practically feel his gaze. “If we’re going to pick up, we probably shouldn’t do it here. Is there a private beach somewhere, maybe?”

Slowly, Yuri lifted his head to look at Flynn in disbelief. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He glanced at the connecting door before he spoke, keeping his voice low.

“Do you not remember the story I told you about mermaids?”

“I do, but—”

“And you want to go screw around on the beach? With me? Which part of this plan did you think was a good idea? The part where we get sand in places sand should never be, or the part where I lose control and rip your throat out with my teeth?”

Flynn studied him for a long moment. “You wouldn’t hurt me,” he said finally. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world: the sky was blue, the ocean was wet, Yuri was not a danger to him.

“What do you know? Remember when you kissed me while we were swimming and I bit your lip? I sure as hell didn’t shove you away to keep Estelle from catching us.”

“Is that why you never, you know, use your mouth on me instead of your hands?”

“There’s no taking it back if I get carried away.” 

He hated having to admit that he couldn’t even fully trust himself, but Flynn deserved to know. He probably should have mentioned it sooner, but he’d been careful never to bite anywhere that might bleed too much, and he’d always managed to keep it together, or at least to pull back and cool his head a minute when he felt close to losing it. A sick joke about mermaids and all-consuming love crossed his mind and he grimaced.

Smiling gently, Flynn reached out to brush Yuri’s hair out of his face. “I trust you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“It’s fine. You aren’t the type to break someone’s trust.”

“Are you actually challenging me not to lose my head in the heat of the moment and give in to instinct?”

“I’m not challenging you to do anything. I’m just saying I trust you.”

“You’re an idiot.” Yuri rolled onto his side, away from Flynn and wrapped the comforter around himself. “I don’t feel like walking all the way home tonight,” he muttered.

Flynn stroked the curve of Yuri’s back through the blanket. “It is late. You should stay.”

It was the first time in his life that Yuri spent the night in someone else’s bed.

\------------------------

Estelle and Sodia stayed for three more days. Yuri had work each day, but with the peak tourist season over for the year, his hours were shortened. Flynn made sure to invite him to join them in the afternoons—which Yuri did—and to stay the night with him—which Yuri did not.

Flynn mentioned that the beach house would be between renters on the day the girls were set to leave and, faced with identical looks of expectation from Flynn and Estelle, Yuri “volunteered” to cook for them there. Not that he minded, really. He still owed Flynn those rolls. He even brought out his crepe pan to make dessert, wrapping it carefully in several layers of plastic bags to transport it from his cave.

As they sat down to eat together, Yuri felt that same warmth that had marked his meals with Flynn and Estelle there before. Even Sodia’s presence as she begrudgingly admitted that the food wasn’t bad couldn’t break the comforting spell of a meal shared with people Yuri had come to care about. It reminded him of when he’d stayed for dinner with Flynn and his parents and grandmother all those times years ago. It was how a family was supposed to feel, and he wished the evening could have gone on a little longer.

When they parted after dinner, Flynn made sure to remind him that he was leaving early to drive the girls to the airport, but that he would be back in the afternoon. Yuri rolled his eyes at the show of solicitude and waved him off before Flynn started getting mushy. He wasn’t sure how he felt about someone being so concerned for him.

The next morning, Adrien stopped by while Yuri was working.

“You have any plans tonight?”

“Yeah. I’ll be busy with my ‘little boyfriend.’” 

He wasn’t altogether surprised to find that his grin was genuine, even though he knew that Flynn still had a whole semester to change his mind about everything. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t have traded the past few days for anything.

Adrien must have gotten the hint, because he didn’t come around again for a long while after that. 

Flynn stayed through the end of the year, ridiculously pleased to be able to surf even in winter. He made Yuri go look at the apartment complexes with him, even though he wouldn’t be getting a place until May at the earliest. He also went down to the police station to speak with someone about interviewing for a job when he came back. Yuri didn’t go with him for that, wary of his reputation tainting LeBlanc’s first impression of Flynn.

A few days later, Yuri took him to meet Repede, the unofficial mascot of the animal shelter by virtue of being its most long-term resident. He was also something of a confidant, so Yuri was glad when Repede took an almost immediate liking to Flynn.

They rang in the New Year together in a fashion that left neither of them with attention to spare for the passing of midnight. As Flynn was supposed to leave on the second, they spent most of New Year’s Day together in his hotel room, leaving only when Yuri started to feel the enervating effects of having been away from the sea for too long. Even then, they didn’t stay out long and picked up take out on their way back to the room. Faced with another four-month separation at the least, they wanted to get their fill of each other before Flynn’s flight.

Yuri spent the night with him again, and woke to see Flynn smiling at him across a scant few inches of pillow.

“Good morning,” he said brightly.

“Ugh. You’re one of _those_ people, aren’t you?” Though he was accustomed to rising early, Yuri was by no means a morning person. When Flynn leaned in to kiss him, though, he figured he could overlook that particular flaw.

They didn’t really have time to fool around. Flynn had an early flight and hadn’t packed the day before. Yuri lounged on the bed, watching him as he straightened up and prepared to leave. He didn’t bother getting dressed until Flynn was packing the car, and he didn’t help carry anything out. They said their goodbyes in the parking lot. Flynn said goodbye, anyway. Yuri leaned against the car and dragged him close to kiss him, deep and lingering, until Flynn reluctantly pulled away.

“I have to go. I’ll be back after graduation, I promise.”

It was that promise that worried Yuri. Flynn had promised to return before, and it had taken him fourteen years to make good on that, and even then it hadn’t been because he’d remembered giving his word. He’d been feeling really optimistic about how things were going during this visit. He hoped that lasted.

They kissed once more, briefly, and then Flynn slid into his seat, waved one last time, and drove off.

Yuri watched him disappear, and headed to the ocean for a dip.

\------------------------

It was the height of summer. Back in May, Flynn had graduated top of his class and immediately after, moved down to Driftwood Cove into a single bedroom apartment in the Oceanview complex. He’d gotten a job as the newest recruit at the police station and was already catching flak from Adecor and Boccos over his relationship with Yuri. LeBlanc didn’t seem to care about that, though, and LeBlanc was the one whose opinion mattered. Yuri made sure to give the Tweedle goon squad his cockiest grin whenever he met up with Flynn at the station.

He’d met him there that afternoon, in fact, and they’d dropped by Flynn’s apartment for him to grab his board and change into swim trunks before heading to the beach. He insisted on holding Yuri’s hand the whole way, which was cheesy and stupid, but Yuri let him do it because he couldn’t resist when Flynn smiled like that.

Eventually, he was going to have to give in and let Flynn teach him how to surf. For the time being, though, he just swam, drifting with the currents and watching Flynn catch waves. When he got bored of being ignored, he swam out far enough to be swept up in one of the bigger waves, letting it carry him along until he could burst out of that wall of water to tackle Flynn off his board.

Yuri surfaced first, laughing as Flynn came up spluttering.

“That was a dick move.”

“Oh, I will _show_ you a dick move.”

He let Flynn kiss him, even though they were drifting in the ocean, even though the press of seawater all around him made him all-too-aware of the rush of blood through Flynn’s veins and the hunger within himself that was tied up in, but not exactly a part of his desire. He’d become more sure of himself since Flynn had returned, more confident that he wouldn’t be dragged under by a mermaid’s instincts. He’d had to, since Flynn paid no heed to his warnings and was just as likely to kiss him in the water as out of it.

They stayed out till after sunset and walked home in the dark, hand-in-hand even though Yuri couldn’t see Flynn’s smile. They cooked dinner together. Flynn was slowly learning how to properly season food, though he still wasn’t allowed in the kitchen unsupervised if he was making something for them to share. He bore the treatment with more patience than Yuri would have, though there had been a number of food fights directly related to Yuri’s unapologetically honest opinion of Flynn’s skills.

Two or three times a week, Yuri spent the night at Flynn’s apartment. It was strange, waking up in bed with someone else, in someone else’s space, but he was getting used to it. They’d worked out a truce of sorts. Flynn wouldn’t pester Yuri about moving out of the cave, and Yuri would stay with him a few nights a week.

Then, one day as Yuri was getting off work, Flynn came strolling down the beach with Repede trotting along next to him. Yuri knelt to scratch the dog, looking up speculatively at Flynn.

“You adopted Repede?”

“He’s yours.”

He stood up slowly. “And how, exactly, am I supposed to keep him? My situation isn’t really conducive to pet ownership.”

Flynn’s smile was entirely too self-satisfied. “I suppose you’ll just have to move in with him, then.”

“Let me guess: he lives at Oceanview?”

“Same apartment number as me and everything. What a coincidence. I’m sure he’d love to have you as a roommate.”

About to inform Flynn just how dirty a trick that was, Yuri stopped as Repede reached out and drew the invisible iron dagger from its sheath at Yuri’s ankle. They watched in shock as the dog tossed his head, flipping the dagger into the air before catching it in his teeth.

“Yuri…I thought no one was supposed to be able to touch that when it was sheathed.”

“That’s what I was told.”

“Can dogs be fairies, too?”

“I’ve heard of spectral hounds, but….”

The two of them stared at Repede a moment longer before exchanging looks.

“Please don’t leave me alone with him.”

“You’re fine to go toe-to-toe with Zagi, but a knife-wielding dog freaks you out? Wuss.”

“I’m not an expert on fairies.”

“Neither am I. That’s Judy’s thing.”

Flynn reached out to take Yuri’s hand. “Please?”

“…Fine. But only because of Repede. And only if you upgrade to a two bedroom.”

Grinning, Flynn grabbed Yuri up into a hug. Repede dropped the knife, making a noise that Yuri swore was a laugh.

“I can’t believe I’m getting sucked into your pace,” Yuri grumbled.

“It’s like getting caught in the undertow. Sometimes something good comes of it.”

“That is a terrible analogy.”

“It makes sense to me.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and shut Flynn up the best way he knew how. When they broke apart from the kiss, Flynn’s smile had softened into a tender expression that Yuri was growing increasingly used to seeing directed at him, though it still filled him with warmth every time. Flynn took his hand and began to lead him back toward town.

“Let’s go home.”

Yuri figured he could probably get used to that, too. Then, because he wasn’t going to go over all sappy and love-struck without a fight, he shoved Flynn aside and raced him back to the apartment, laughing the whole way. Life was good.


End file.
